PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 
OF  A  CUB  REPORTER 

BY 
CORNELIUS  VANDERBILT,  Jr« 


NEW  YORK 
GEORGE  SULLY  AND  COMPANY 


Copyright,  1922,  by 
GEORGE  SULLY  AND  COMPANY 


PRINTED  IN  U.  S.  A. 


Pa/ 

^17  4 


To  Her 

who  inspires  and  aids  me 

in  my  chosen  work 

My  Wife 


408545 


INTRODUCTION 

In  the  following  pages  I  have  set  down  a 
few  of  the  more  interesting  experiences  which 
have  been  allotted  to  me  during  the  last  three 
years  of  my  career  in  the  news-gathering  world. 

Coleridge  tells  us  that  human  experience, 
like  the  stern  lights  of  a  ship  at  sea,  too  often 
illuminates  only  the  path  we  have  passed  over. 
These  sketches  might  well  be  termed,  then,  the 
enterprises  from  which  I  have  emerged  suc- 
cessfully; the  others,  and  they  make  up  the 
minutes  of  a  reporter's  daily  life,  are  usually 
colorless,  so  I  have  omitted  describing  them. 

For  assistance  in  the  preparation  of  this 
book  I  am  indebted  to  many  people,  among 
them  the  late  J.  K.  Ohl,  managing  editor  of 
the  former  New  York  Herald;  John  M.  Sid- 
dall,  editor  of  the  American  Magazine;  John 
N.  Wheeler,  president  of  the  Bell  Syndicate; 
and  E.  B.  McLaughlin,  of  the  Seattle  Times; 
and  my  thanks  are  due  to  them  for  their  per- 

vii 


Vlll  INTRODUCTION 

mission  to  use  such  portions  of  this  volume  as 
originally  appeared  in  periodicals  and  a  series 
of  newspaper  articles. 

The  Author 
Dec.  I,  1 92 1 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Introduction vii 

CHAPTER 

I     Molding  a  Reporter i 

II     Checkmate 14 

III  The  Forgetful  Idealist  ....  25 

IV  Into  the  Frozen  North  ....  41 
V     Hypocrisy 51 

VI    Just  a  Husband 66 

VII     The  Bribe 80 

VIII     The  Reception  on  the  Sound    .     .  95 

IX     Reporting  Riots 108 

X    A  Soldier  of  Freedom 124 

XI     Small  Fry 135 

XII     A  Victim  of  Artificiality      .     .     .  148 

XIII  Squirrel  Food 164 

XIV  A  Foreign  Buyer i77 

XV    The  Copy-Reader 188 

XVI     The  Fighting  Mayor 201 

ix 


PERSONAL   EXPERIENCES 
OF  A  CUB  REPORTER 

CHAPTER  I 

MOLDING   A    REPORTER 

Service  in  some  form  or  other  should  be  the 
keynote  of  every  worthwhile  thing  in  life,  and 
newspaper  work  gives  one  a  greater  scope  for 
serving  the  public  at  large,  and  molding  opin- 
ion, than  any  other  present-day  occupation. 

To  become  a  great  editor,  with  a  clear  and 
impartial  vision  of  national  and  local  issues  is 
a  reporter's  highest  ambition.  Some  of  us 
strive  even  higher,  to  become  publicists  and 
interpreters  of  great  questions  affecting  our 
people. 

Eventually,  I  hope  by  hard  study  and  diligent 
effort  to  become  a  publicist  if  that  is  within  my 
realm  of  opportunity.  Again,  I  have  an  am- 
bition to  control  a  newspaper  syndicate,  through 


f 


2  PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

which  I  could  contribute  to  the  best  papers  in 
the  country,  irrespective  of  size  or  circulation. 

At  best,  the  carving  of  one's  career  is  a  diffi- 
cult task.  I  found  it  a  harder  task  than  I 
anticipated.  But  the  glorious  privilege  of  being 
independent,  of  earning  one's  way  in  the  world 
by  a  process  of  brain  and  bodily  energy.  Is  the 
chief  attribute  of  journalism.  At  first  I  found 
it  hard  to  convince  the  editors  that  my  writing 
was  not  a  fad;  that  I  was  perfectly  serious  and 
sincere  about  It  and  was  really  embarking  on 
a  life  of  work.  Those  editorial  moguls  of  the 
oak-desk  shot  sidelong  glances  at  me  as  if  to 
question  my  veracity  and  my  ability  to  write 
the  brand  of  news  they  demanded. 

I  secured  my  first  position  on  the  former 
New  York  Herald,  and  was  obliged  to  write 
my  name  on  a  waiting  list,  the  staff  being  filled. 
I  was  instructed  to  drop  In  every  few  days 
until  a  vacancy  occurred.  Within  ten  days 
E.  W.  H.,  whom  I  had  known  for  some  time, 
left  the  city  staff  to  accept  a  position  with  an 
advertising  agency.  He  informed  Mr.  J.  K. 
Ohl,  the  Herald's  managing  editor,  that  he  had 
a  friend  who  would  take  his  place,  who  was 
a  "cub"  but  willing  to  learn  journalism  from 
the  very  bottom. 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  3 

At  10  o'clock  on  the  morning  of  the  next  day 
I  was  engaged  and  took  my  seat  behind  an 
antiquated  typewriter  in  the  City  Room  of  the 
old  Herald  Building  to  await  instructions. 
They  were  not  long  in  coming.  In  those  days 
the  dynamic  autocrat  of  the  Herald  was  its 
City  Editor,  "Billy"  Willis.  The  "cubs"  wor- 
shipped  and  feared  him  at  the  same  time.  His 
particular  domain  was  a  box-like  chamber  ad- 
joining the  City  Room.  He  swayed  imperial 
power  over  this  region  and  did  it  with  efficiency. 
I  well  remember  his  first  words  of  encourage- 
ment: 

"When  you  can  cover  eighteen  assignments 
in  one  day  you  can  consider  yourself  a  full- 
fledged  reporter.  Until  then  you  will  be  our 
"star-cub." 

I  bowed  my  obsequious  acknowledgments, 
and  my  knees  quaked  visibly.  I  reflected  that 
eighteen  assignments  were  not  any  too  many  as 
I  gazed  about  me  and  noted  a  battalion  of  suc- 
cessful reporters  who  had  not  stopped  at  that 
number.  I  aspired  to  be  successful,  too.  Be- 
sides I  had  covered  thrice  eighteen  assignments 
in  a  day's  run  while  serving  as  a  private  over- 
seas. 

I  am  a  wiser  "cub"  since  that  memorable 


'4         PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

interview.  I  have  learned  that  my  City  Editor 
exaggerated  a  bit.  Six  assignments  constitute 
a  good  day's  labor  on  a  metropolitan  news- 
paper. 

The  City  Room  is  the  main  artery  of  the 
modern  newspaper.  Everything  that  passes 
through  this  ever-grinding  news-mill  is  ex- 
amined to  the  core  before  it  passes  on  and  into 
print.  The  average  daily  paper  thrives  best 
on  the  live  local  news  gathered  by  its  reporters; 
telegraphic  news  and  other  items  come  next. 
Every  iota  of  news  that  will  attract  the  reader 
is  pieced  together  here  and  worked  into  shape 
for  the  eagle  eyes  of  the  copy-readers.  For  be 
it  known,  that  the  copy-reader  is  important 
enough  to  bask  in  the  shadow  of  the  City 
Editor.  To  the  "cub"  reporter  he  is  the  big- 
gest Roman  of  them  all,  for  he  is  the  fellow 
who  "trims"  your  copy;  he  is  the  man  with  a 
squad  of  blue  pencils  and  the  cruelest  of 
scissors. 

The  copy-readers  in  most  newspaper  offices 
are  seated  round  a  table  shaped  somewhat  like 
a  horseshoe.  Soft  lights  shine  just  over  their 
heads,  day  and  night.  Pots  of  library  paste  are 
everywhere.     The  Herald  copy-readers  were 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  5 

a  lugubrious  array  of  ancient  scribes,  whose 
pet  phrase  seemed  to  be  "better  next  time." 

Little  cables  connected  their  table  with  the 
composing  room  upstairs.  Throughout  the 
night  and  wee  hours  the  "copy"  was  placed  in 
the  boxes  attached  to  the  cable  and  sent  to  the 
gigantic  presses  that  "crushed"  out  the  news 
with  a  thundering  noise  that  shook  the  building. 

All  over  the  City  Room  were  the  busy  little 
news-tickers,  similar  to  those  that  tick  out  stock 
reports.  Local  happenings  not  covered  by  the 
staff  men  came  in  over  these  tickers.  The  As- 
sociated Press  and  United  Press,  the  City  News 
and  Standard  News  added  their  songs  to  those 
of  the  fifty  or  more  typewriters  that  drummed 
away  ceaselessly  throughout  the  night.  This 
humdrum  at  first  confuses  the  "cub";  after- 
ward he  learns  to  love  it.  A  newspaper  office 
is  the  best  place  in  the  world  to  learn  concen- 
tration. Working  always  against  time  he 
must  concentrate,  in  spite  of  every  noise 
under  the  sun  going  on  at  the  same  time. 

My  career  as  a  news-gatherer  has  been  a 
series  of  exciting  sensations,  and  I  should  not 
advise  one  to  enter  the  newspaper  world  unless 
he  or  she  is  ready  for  an  overflow  measure  of 
mental  and  physical  exercise.     In  the  past  two 


6  PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

and  a  half  years  I  have  never  worked  harder 
in  my  life;  and  I  have  never  enjoyed  anything 
half  as  well  as  "running  down"  a  fresh  news 
scent  for  a  great  city  daily. 

My  first  story — everything  in  the  daily 
routine  is  referred  to  as  a  "story" — was  an 
interview  with  an  African  potentate  on  his  first 
visit  to  New  York  City.  The  Assistant  City 
Editor,  who  had  the  patience  of  Job,  assigned 
me  to  the  McAlpin  Hotel  to  interview  General 
Harab-Ushin.  I  needed  no  urging,  foFTwas 
doubly  keen  to  discover  whether  the  science  of 
reporting  was  easy  or  difficult. 

Within  a  few  minutes  I  had  reached  the 
suite  occupied  by  the  gentleman  of  African 
estate  and  complexion.  For  the  first  time  I 
discovered  that  competition  guides  news-getting 
as  it  does  any  other  business.  Fully  eight  re- 
porters from  other  papers  were  lined  in  the 
corridor,  on  either  side  of  the  mystical  doorway 
leading  to  the  general's  apartment.  Standing 
near  us  was  a  chocolate-eyed  servant  wearing 
a  weird  red  and  gold  costume  and  a  jungle 
appearance,  who  sleepily  gazed  at  us  through 
the  corners  of  his  eyes. 

We  waited  an  hour  thus.  Then  the  door 
opened  and  a  valet  inquired  whether  the  head 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  ^ 

waiter  or  the  stenographer  had  sent  us.  Before 
we  could  reply  he  desired  to  learn  whether  we 
spoke  French  or  Spanish.  I  understood  French 
and  a  scribe  from  over  Brooklyn  way  had  taken 
a  correspondence  course  in  Spanish;  so  we  en- 
tered the  apartment  of  the  distinguished  Afri- 
can— all  foreigners  interviewed  by  the  modern 
American  newspaper  are  dubbed  "distin- 
guished." 

The  general,  a  small  man  of  broad  propor- 
tions, was  seated  on  a  sofa,  togged  out  in  a 
uniform  as  resplendent  as  a  vaudeville  come- 
dian's. He  bowed  graciously  and  with  a  French- 
Spanish  patois  desired  us  to  take  down  a  state- 
ment he  had  prepared  for  the  press.  He 
evidently  had  mistaken  our  calling,  assuming 
we  were  a  coterie  of  hotel  stenographers.  We 
did  not  correct  his  mistake.  The  statement  fin- 
ished he  thanked  us  volubly,  ordered  his  valet 
to  recompense  us  for  the  work,  and  arose  as  a 
signal  for  us  to  go. 

The  reporter  from  the  Brooklyn  paper  gave 
me  the  first  inkling  of  the  highly  complicated 
machinery  of  news-gathering  when  he  politely 
informed  the  general  that  it  was  customary  for 
all  visiting  dignitaries  to  place  their  honorable 
photographs  with  the  hotel  stenographers  for 


8  PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

future  reference.  But  the  the  general  had  no 
photograph  that  did  him  justice.  A  few  min- 
utes later  I  happily  summoned  a  Herald 
cameraman  and,  escorting  the  African  to  the 
hotel  roof,  we  "shot"  a  number  of  photos  of 
him. 

When  he  saw  himself  pictured  on  the  front 
page  of  the  following  morning's  paper  the 
ceremonious  African  must  have  thought  to  him- 
self that  reporters  grew  like  mushrooms  in  this 
enterprising  Republic. 

This  "story"  was  my  initiation  into  the 
mysteries  of  news-gathering.  It  demonstrated 
to  me  that  the  foremost  asset  of  a  good  re- 
porter is  plenty  of  resourcefulness,  and  an  ever- 
ready  nerve  to  meet  any  situation,  however 
difficult.  Later  I  learned  that  this  active  work 
increased  my  mental  functions,  for,  if  any- 
thing, it  is  bound  to  make  one  alert,  with  a 
skipper's  eye  for  details  and  analysis.  It  cer- 
tainly broadens  the  vision  and  opens  up  new 
fields  every  day  in  which  to  test  one's  wits. 

At  first  the  hours  appeared  tediously  long. 
Even  though  every  minute  contributed  its  meed 
of  news,  there  were  times  when  one  had  to  wait 
hours  for  a  "top-head"  story  to  come  along. 
During  these  times  I  polished  up  on  my  news- 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  9 

paper  "adjectives"  by  frequent  visits  to  the 
well-filled  library,  and  to  the  "morgue"  where 
the  "has  been"  material  is  stocked  and  recorded 
for  future  use.  I  watched  my  more  experi- 
enced colleagues  at  work — to-day  many  of  them 
have  important  positions  at  the  head  of  their 
professions.  In  journalism  I  have  met  some 
of  the  most  interesting  people  I  have  ever 
known. 

Many  young  women  were  learning  the  pro- 
fession of  news-writing  in  the  old  Herald  office, 
for  the  late  James  Gordon  Bennett,  and  after 
him  his  Herald  Committee,  believed  in  giving 
both  sexes  a  fair  chance  to  enter  the  journalistic 
field.  Often,  outside  of  New  York  City,  I 
have  been  told  that  women  never  could  become 
successful  newspaper  writers  as  they  were  too 
soft-hearted  and  too  much  inclined  to  "sob- 
stuff."  My  opinion  is  that,  on  certain  subjects, 
women  surpass  men  as  reporters.  It  is  safer 
to  assign  a  woman  to  a  crime  confession, 
for  people  are  inclined  to  talk  more  freely 
and  frankly  in  the  presence  of  women.  In 
some  cases  it  is  better  to  have  a  woman 
interview  politicians;  for  these  gentry  usually 
underestimate  the  mental  capacity  of  the 
gentler  sex,  as  a  result  of  which  they  are  wel- 


10        PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

corned  by  a  jolt  when  they  read  the  interview 
in  the  paper  next  morning. 

For  several  weeks  a  young  woman  worked 
close  by  me  on  the  Herald.  I  observed  that 
she  had  a  lively  interest  in  her  work.  She  was 
a  cripple  in  body  but  certainly  not  in  mental 
efficiency.  She  successfully  executed  some  very 
difficult  criminological  work  for  the  paper.  To- 
day she  stands  high  in  her  new  profession — 
that  of  one  of  the  foremost  criminologists  of 
Richmond,  Virginia. 

I  have  stated  that  the  hours  were  long,  and 
I  want  to  impress  this  upon  all  who  desire  to 
enter  journalism.  Since  June,  19 19,  I  have 
seldom  worked  less  than  twelve  hours  a  day, 
the  usual  time  in  the  office  has  been  from  two 
P.M.  to  two  A.M.,  though  the  hours  vary  more 
or  less. 

He  is  a  lucky  "cub"  that  succeeds  in  securing 
a  day  off  once  a  week.  I  have  worked  every 
Christmas,  New  Year's,  Thanksgiving,  July 
Fourth  and  all  other  holidays,  including  nearly 
every  Sunday  in  the  year.  The  City  Desk  is 
no  respecter  of  time  or  person. 

We  had  a  set  of  rules  on  the  old  Herald  to 
govern  a  reporter's  copy.  Most  of  these  rules 
had  been  prepared  by  Mr.  Bennett,  who  had 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  ii 

certain  fixed  ideas  about  news  and  the  style  in 
which  it  was  to  be  written.  These  rules  have 
since  been  done  away  with.  One  remained, 
that  all-meaning  word  "terseness."  We  "cubs" 
were  instructed,  even  admonished,  from  time 
to  time,  to  state  a  fact  and  to  state  it  quickly. 
Newspapers  cost  money  to  produce,  and  space 
is  extremely  valuable.  A  "padded"  story  is 
not  read  merely  for  the  sake  of  reading;  it  is 
better  to  economize  on  words  and  punctuation. 
It  gives  the  story  more  strength.  Apart  from 
this  the  reporter  is  left  to  his  own  devices,  in- 
itiative and  peculiar  personal  style.  There  is 
one  unwritten  law  in  a  newspaper  office :  he 
that  succeeds  in  getting  a  good  story  must  also 
write  and  embellish  it. 

Interviews  are  interesting,  and  probably 
more  engrossing  than  anything  except  a  "crime" 
story.  I  detest  crime  and  all  its  synonyms, 
nevertheless  there  is  something  about  running 
down  and  writing  a  "crime"  story  that  appeals 
to  all  reporters.  Possibly  it's  the  excitement. 
I  was  once  tendered  some  valuable  advice  with 
respect  to  interviewing.  I  was  instructed  never 
to  express  a  personal  opinion  during  an  inter- 
view, which  could  be  construed  as  belonging  to 
the  interview;  that  the  successful   interviewer 


12        PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

religiously  abided  by  this  rule,  and  if  he  had 
any  ideas  on  the  subject  at  all  they  could  be 
injected  into  the  text  while  writing  the  story. 
I  was  advised  never  to  theorize  one  way  or  the 
other  unless  I  was  fully  informed  as  to  both 
sides  of  the  question,  for  the  commonest  fault 
committed  by  inexperienced  reporters  is  rush- 
ing into  a  story  without  knowing  its  two 
sides. 

As  I  went  along  I  discovered  that  journalism 
awakened  a  latent  interest  in  world  questions, 
which  has  grown  in  intensity  with  the  years. 
I  attacked  the  deep-rooted  question  of  politics 
and  began  to  have  a  glowing  admiration  for 
people  who  did  those  constructive  things  that 
were  of  daily  record  in  our  newspaper.  Fur- 
thermore, I  learned  that  to  become  a  recog- 
nized all-round  scribe  meant  that  I  must  forego 
the  ambition  to  specialize.  I  readjusted  the 
groundwork  of  my  earlier  "cub"  days  and  pre- 
pared to  write  on  all  subjects  in  the  clearest, 
matter-of-fact  style. 

The  molding  of  public  opinion  is  done  not 
only  by  the  erudite  editor  but  by  the  less  dig- 
nified but  fresh-from-the-beat-reporter,  as  well. 
Usually  the  young  "cub"  entering  upon  his 
career  is  afforded  every  opportunity  to  develop 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  13 

himself  into  the  finished  product.  For  who 
knows  but  that  this  self-same  "cub"  may  not 
have  in  him  the  germ  of  future  greatness;  who 
knows  but  that  he  may  not  develop  into  a  great 
editor,  or  publicist,  or  leader  of  the  people? 


i^^ 


|^.<^  CHAPTER  II 

AT 

CHECKMATE 

Two  of  the  mightiest  dreadnoughts  of  the 
United  States  Navy  stole  into  the  harbor  of 
Seattle,  Washington,  on  a  warm  summer's 
evening  in  1920.  The  wireless  had  announced 
their  approach  as  they  steamed  down  the  coast, 
but  it  was  thought  their  destination  was  San 
Francisco  and  that  they  would  proceed  thence 
without  entering  Puget  Sound. 

But  those  prophecies  went  wrong.  They 
veered  from  their  course  and,  entering  the 
Sound,  dropped  anchor  off  Seattle.  Much 
speculation  was  rife  in  the  various  newspaper 
offices  as  to  the  reason  for  the  unexpected  visit. 
In  the  office  of  the  Seattle  Times  reporters 
were  on  keen-edge,  each  hoping  to  obtain  the 
coveted  assignment  to  go  aboard  the  big  ships 
and  to  solve  the  question  of  their  visit. 

"Boys,"  suddenly  broke  in  the  City  Editor, 
"Josephus  Daniels,  Secretary  of  the  Navy,  and 
John  Barton  Payne,  Secretary  of  the  Interior 

14 


PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES         15 

are  on  board.  'Mac,'  you  are  assigned  to 
cover  the  story.  Perhaps  Vanderbilt  would 
like  to  accompany  you." 

Indeed,  I  was  but  awaiting  the  opportunity. 
Secretary  Daniels  and  Mr.  Payne  had  sailed 
for  Alaska  a  few  weeks  previously  and  their  de- 
parture was  veiled  in  as  much  mystery  as  their 
sudden  return. 

All  that  evening  we  paced  the  Navy  Dock  in 
a  vain  effort  to  learn  something  of  the  distin- 
guished visitors.  The  guard  had  instructions 
to  permit  no  visitors  on  board.  Our  questions 
went  unanswered.  We  returned  home  that 
night  dejected  and  news-less. 

Shortly  after  sunrise  next  morning  we  were 
on  the  dock,  nimbly  scouting  for  fresh  signs  of 
news.  Offshore  the  Battleship  New  York  lay 
peacefully  heaving  on  her  anchor.  Just  astern 
of  her  was  another  great  ship.  Eight  fast  de- 
stroyers completed  the  majesty  of  the  marine 
picture  before  us. 

Some  of  the  reporters  were  on  their  way 
across  the  bay  in  a  chartered  launch,  but  "Mac" 
and  I  waited  on  the  dock  for  a  navy  launch  to 
come  alongside.  We  predicted  rightly,  for  at 
seven  bells  a  large  crew-boat  hove  in.  Only 
one  guard  was  stationed  on  the  dock,  and  he 


i6        PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

attached  enough  importance  to  our  press 
badges  to  permit  us  to  board  the  boat.  Before 
long  we  were  at  the  gangway  of  the  New  York. 

Then  our  fortune  changed.  A  frigid-looking 
officer  asked  our  business.  We  told  him  and 
two  minutes  later  the  coxswain  was  hustling  us 
ashore.     Thus  ended  escapade  Number  One. 

We  had  to  get  aboard  that  ship  somehow  or 
our  alleged  fame  as  news-getters  would  perish 
on  the  spot.  Shortly  after  nine  o'clock  a 
photographer  appeared  on  the  float  with  a 
heavy  consignment  of  photographic  parapher- 
nalia. A  group  of  civilians  soon  joined  him. 
A  launch  appeared,  the  party  scampered  on 
board  and  we  did  likewise.  Again  we  sallied 
over  to  the  elusive  gangway.  There  was  that 
inscrutable  officer  still  holding  the  fort.  We 
smirked  at  him  to  disguise  our  faces,  but  it 
didn't  work. 

"Get  out  of  here,  you  fellows.  The  next 
time  I  see  you  out  here  you'll  be  in  for  a  duck- 
ing.    Now  get!" 

We  did.  The  Sound  waters  are  beautiful 
but  cold.  However,  our  zeal  was  still  un- 
dampened.  News  we  had  to  get,  come  what 
may.  We  decided  to  risk  another  chance. 
Close   by  we   discovered   a   battleship   launch 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  17 

loading  bottles  of  water.  We  trotted  down 
there  to  assist  in  the  loading  like  a  couple  of 
rustics  from  the  interior  who  had  seen  salt 
water  for  the  first  time.  The  junior  officer  in 
charge  looked  askance  at  us  several  minutes 
and  then  asked  us  why  we  manifested  such  an 
exalted  ambition  for  work. 

"We've  never  been  aboard  one  of  them  there 
battleships,  and  we  want  to  see  what  they  look 
like  from  the  inside,"  declared  the  resourceful 
"Mac." 

The  unsuspecting  officer  fell.  After  order- 
ing us  to  stow  a  huge  basketful  of  bread  on 
board,  he  added  that  he  would  try  to  arrange 
for  an  unofficial  visit,  if  but  for  a  few  moments. 
The  launch  set  out  and  we  resigned  ourselves 
to  fate,  with  a  reportorlal  prayer  on  our  lips. 
Being  a  duty  boat  the  craft  drew  up  on  the  port 
side  of  the  dreadnought,  on  the  opposite  side 
from  the  insurmountable  gangway  and  its  gold- 
braided  sentinel. 

A  choppy  sea  was  running  and  we  had  some 
difficulty  In  gaining  a  foothold  on  the  slippery 
gangway.  The  bread  basket  was  heavy  and  the 
gangway  narrow,  and  after  some  delay  we 
managed  to  reach  the  deck.  As  we  were  about 
to  descend  for  the  second  basket  our  nemesis, 


1 8        PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

the  starboard  gangway  officer,  approached  us. 
We  had  visions  of  an  icy  bath.  I  can  say  that 
our  shadows  almost  "froze  to  the  deck"  as  he 
passed  without  recognizing  us.  He  saw  our 
Ignoble  backs  only,  for  at  that  moment  both 
of  us  were  concentrated  on  the  mountainous 
topography  of  the  country  opposite  Seattle. 

With  this  danger  passed  a  kindly  officer  of 
elderly  mien  stopped  and  inquired  the  nature 
of  our  business.  He  evidently  thought  we  were 
a  pair  of  young  Canadians. 

"We  have  been  helping  carry  provisions 
aboard,"  replied  "Mac."  "We  have  long  cher- 
ished a  desire  to  view  an  American  battleship 
at  close  quarters,  and  here  we  are."  A  moment 
later  he  was  initiating  us  into  the  intricacies  of 
the  great  ship,  and  impressing  us  by  the  magni- 
tude of  the  vessel,  indulging  in  a  lot  of  marine 
arithmetic  until  he  had  us  "awed"  completely. 
On  this  official  tour  we  passed  the  stern  cabin, 
at  the  entrance  of  which  stood  a  marine  guard. 
Innocently  we  asked  who  resided  there. 

"In  peace  time  that's  where  the  Admiral  of 
the  fleet  resides,"  he  told  us.  "In  war  the 
Admiral  in  charge  of  operations  is  quartered 
there.      It   is   now    the   temporary   home    of 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  19 

Josephus  Daniels,  the  man  who  runs  the 
Navy." 

Our  obliging  officer  here  left  us  for  a  mo- 
ment. Meanwhile  from  a  companionway 
emerged  the  much-sought-after  Mr.  Payne.  He 
glanced  curiously  at  us.  This  was  our  supreme 
moment,  and  you  may  be  sure  we  grasped  it. 

"Mr.  Payne,"  spoke  "Mac,"  "we're  report- 
ers, and  we've  had  a  fierce  time  reaching  you. 
May  we  have  an  interview  since  we're  here?" 

The  much  surprised  colleague  of  the  Secre- 
tary of  the  Navy  hesitated  for  a  moment,  and 
then  replied: 

"Why  didn't  you  send  your  cards  in.  There 
have  been  no  orders  prohibiting  reporters  from 
seeing  me." 

We  had  no  time  for  explanations.  We 
wanted  news  and  wanted  it  quickly,  seeing  that 
no  other  reporters  were  about.  My  companion 
asked  if  I  could  see  Mr.  Daniels  while  he 
quizzed  Mr.  Payne.  An  officer  was  summoned 
who  conducted  me  below  where  the  marine 
barred  the  entrance  to  the  citadel  of  the  Navy 
secretary.  Here  I  was  instructed  to  wait.  A 
few  minutes  later  Mr.  Daniels  summoned  me 
into  his  presence. 

We  were  in  the  "stern-sheets"  of  the  great 


20        PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

battleship  as  it  were,  and  for  all  the  world  it 
looked  as  though  we  might  be  in  a  comfortable 
suite  of  the  Biltmore  Hotel.  At  one  end  of 
the  room  was  the  Secretary,  comfortably  seated 
in  a  great  damask  chair.  Beside  him  was  a 
large  mahogany  table,  on  which  I  noticed  a 
decanter,  several  glasses  and  some  cracked  ice. 

The  war  head  of  the  Navy  motioned  me  to 
a  chair  and  proffered  me  a  drink.  I  thanked 
him  and  poured  out  some  of  the  contents  of  the 
mysterious-looking  decanter,  only  to  find  a 
flowing  glass  of  grape-juice  before  me.  He 
asked  what  sort  of  a  "story"  I  wanted,  and  I 
replied  that  I  was  keenly  anxious  to  solve  the 
riddle  of  his  trip  to  Alaska. 

"Many  people  have  asked  harder  ones  than 
that,"  Mr.  Daniels  returned,  with  an  affable 
smile.  Then  his  brow  became  corrugated  as  he 
continued :  "Well,  I've  been  up  there  to  find  out 
whether  the  vegetables  were  as  big  as  I  had 
been  once  told.  I  wanted  to  find  out  whether 
the  grass  grew  as  long  as  it  does  in  North 
Carolina,  and  if  there  was  any  hay-making  in 
the  spring.     What  else  can  I  say?" 

I  replied  that  I  had  every  reason  to  suspect 
that  his  voyage  to  Alaska  was  to  ascertain 
something  having  to  do  with  the  Navy.    I  said 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  21 

that  whatever  that  something  was,  it  would 
some  day  be  public  property,  and  I  sought  the 
opportunity  then  and  there  to  give  it  to  the 
public.  I  cited  our  difficulty  in  reaching  the 
ship,  and  added  with  a  smile  that  I  was  not 
returning  to  shore  until  I  had  the  information 
for  which  I  had  come.  Lastly,  I  reminded  him 
that  he,  being  a  journalist  and  understanding 
the  difficulties  of  the  profession,  might  see  fit 
to  acquaint  a  brother-journalist  with  the  real 
facts  concerning  his  unannounced  visit  to  "Sew- 
ard's Icebox." 

"Ah,"  he  smiled  back,  "but  that's  where 
you're  wrong.  Alaska  is  no  more  of  an  icebox 
than  Rhode  Island.  Its  climate  is  similar  in 
some  respects,  and  many  of  its  harbors  are  not 
ice-locked  at  all  in  winter.  It's  a  grand  country, 
peopled  by  a  race  of  sturdy  pioneers  and  their 
children,  and  governed  intelligently  and  effi- 
ciently. 

"But  your  argument  is  good.  I  had  not 
thought  of  divulging  my  reasons  for  making 
this  trip  until  after  submitting  my  report  to  the 
President.  However,  I  believe  I'll  tell  you  one 
or  two  reasons  and  you  can  draw  your  own 
conclusions  concerning  the  rest. 

"We  have  just  completed   making  the  first 


22        PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

voyage  of  a  battleship  up  the  Inland  Passage 
at  full  speed,  convoyed  by  Admiral  Rodman 
and  his  flotilla  of  destroyers." 

This  was  a  news  thunderbolt.  I  was  not  pre- 
pared for  it.  I  took  my  pencil  and  made  notes 
as  fast  as  I  could  write;  for  I  knew  that  if  he 
stopped  talking  he  would  lose  his  trend  of 
thought  and  perhaps  the  inclination  to  continue 
further. 

"This  Is  the  first  trip  that  any  large  Ameri- 
can vessels  of  war  have  made  up  this  Passage," 
and  it  will  go  down  in  Navy  annals  as  a  re- 
markable achievement.  The  voyage  was  won- 
derful both  from  the  scenic  and  historical  point 
of  view,  and  we  have  proven  that  in  the  event 
of  hostilities  American  war  vessels  have  in  the 
Inland  Passage  a  protective  area  within  which 
to  navigate  the  dangerous  Alaskan  coast. 

"Furthermore,  we  inspected  mines  producing 
anthracite  coal  of  almost  as  good  quality  as 
the  Pennsylvania  mines.  This  means  that  in 
the  future  the  Navy  will  save  thousands  of 
dollars,  for  we  will  be  enabled  to  utilize  this 
cheap  Alaskan  coal  at  all  our  bases  on  the 
Pacific  Coast  instead  of  freighting  fuel  from 
the  Atlantic  at  great  expense." 

Secretary  Daniels  arose  as  he  concluded  this 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  23 

statement,  asserting  that  he  was  not  at  liberty 
to  say  more.  The  interview  had  meant  much 
to  me  and,  elated  over  my  success,  I  thanked 
him  for  his  kindness. 

A  few  moments  later  he  accompanied  me  on 
deck,  where  we  met  Mr.  Payne  and  the  per- 
sistent "Mac."  The  latter  was  in  excellent 
spirits,  disclosing  to  me  that  Payne  had  fur- 
nished him  a  graphic  description  of  the  agri- 
cultural wealth  of  our  territorial  "Icebox." 
The  launch  was  summoned  by  an  officer,  on 
which  the  two  secretaries  were  to  go  ashore. 
At  a  sharp  command  hundreds  of  sailors  began 
lining  the  sides  of  the  great  steel  fighting  ship. 
Buglers  assembled  near  the  gangway  and  the 
dreadnought's  officers  formed  a  line  through 
which  the  secretaries  passed  to  the  gangway. 

At  this  moment  I  espied  on  the  gangway  our 
old  enemy,  the  officer  who  earlier  in  the  morn- 
ing had  so  threateningly  barred  our  entry  to 
the  ship.  I  wonder  what  his  thoughts  were 
when  he  saw  us  victoriously  descending  the 
gangway  in  the  company  of  the  ship's  two  fa- 
mous guests.  This  is  the  type  of  well-deserved 
thrill  a  reporter  gets  now  and  then. 

The  fast  navy  launch  skimmed  over  the 
water  toward  the  dock  while  Mr.  Daniels  and 


24        PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

Mr.  Payne  bid  us  goodbye  and  good  luck,  both 
adding  with  generous  smiles  that  we  had  "won" 
our  interviews  handily  over  the  other  reporters. 
That  evening  we  were  among  those  of  the 
press  that  attended  a  dinner  at  the  Arctic  Club 
in  honor  of  Seattle's  two  distinguished  guests. 
After  Mr.  Daniels'  speech  he  leaned  across  the 
table  and  whispered  to  me : 

"You  see,  I  didn't  give  you  away." 
The  next  morning  my  paper  in  New  York 
City  was  the  only  newspaper  in  the  country  that 
published    the    correct    facts    concerning    that 
memorable  voyage  to  Alaska. 


CHAPTER  III 

the  forgetful  idealist 

Edward  John  Moreton  Drag  Plunkett, 
eighteenth  baron  of  Dunsany,  one  of  the  fore- 
most dramatists  and  poets  of  his  age,  slipped 
into  New  York  City  late  in  the  fall  of  19 19, 
quite  unannounced  and  unheralded.  Had  it  not 
been  for  some  enterprising  publicity  agent,  he 
would  have  remained  there  at  his  leisure,  far 
from  the  madding  crowd,  until  the  time  came 
for  his  return  to  the  Emerald  Isle. 

When  it  became  known  in  newspaper  circles 
that  Dunsany  had  arrived  and  was  concealed 
on  the  eleventh  floor  of  the  Belmont  Hotel,  a 
covey  of  reporters  sprang  from  apparently  no- 
where and  attached  themselves  to  the  hotel 
lobby.  Compared  with  "covering"  the  late  Mr. 
Caruso's  operations  and  illnesses,  the  siege  of 
Dunsany  was  many  times  more  forceful,  and 
equally  non-productive.  For  hours  at  a  time 
one  walked  the  lobby,  kept  watch  over  the 
elevators  and  side  entrances,  and  endeavored 

25 


26        PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

to  get  in  touch  with  the  shy  Irish  peer  over  the 
wires.  The  bellboys,  the  elevator  operators, 
the  telephone  girls  and  the  clerks  soon  began 
to  detest  the  very  sight  of  us,  and  yet  the  siege 
continued.  After  the  fourth  day,  a  plan  was 
formulated  and  a  council  of  war  decreed  upon. 
It  was  decided  that  we  should  all  draw  lots 
the  following  morning  and  that  the  two  men 
drawing  the  shortest  pieces  of  paper  would  be 
elected  to  climb  the  inside  fire-escape,  in  an 
attempt  to  dodge  the  floor  clerk  and  reach  the 
floor  of  the  bashful  poet.  It  was  further 
stated  that  the  men  who  did  it.  If  their  mission 
should  prove  successful,  would  be  permitted  to 
keep  the  general  text  of  their  material  and 
"beat"  the  others  on  the  story. 

The  next  morning  two  newspaper  men  set 
forth.  None  of  the  others  pretended  to  take 
any  notice  and  yet  each  man  was  secretly  wish- 
ing in  his  heart  that  the  two  elected  to  fulfill 
the  contract  would  succeed  and  the  siege  be  at 
an  end.  Besides  that  we  were  ever  fearful  that 
some  titian-haired  siren  of  the  press  might  be 
able  to  influence  the  "bashful  peer"  to  give  her 
a  personal  interview,  and  we  would  not  have 
blamed  him  had  he  done  it;  yet  what  a  mean, 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  27 

cringy,  feeling  it  would  be,  to  have  to  acknowl- 
edge defeat  to  the  opposite  sex. 

Twenty  minutes  had  scarcely  elapsed  before 
we  noticed  our  compatriots  firmly  clasped  by 
the  house-detective  emerging  from  the  "ex- 
press" elevator.  What  a  dire  sensation  and 
what  a  sad  one  immediately  arose  from  within. 
We  saw,  nor  heard,  no  more  of  those  who  had 
attempted  the  impossible,  and  yet  as  the  after- 
noon advanced  we  brazenly  decided  to  make 
another  try.  Therefore  the  lots  were  again 
tossed,  and  woe  betide,  for  mine  happened  to 
be  among  the  others. 

With  grim  determination  to  do  or  die,  my 
compatriot  and  I  set  forth.  We  were  even 
more  wary  than  our  predecessors,  for  instead 
of  entering  the  fire  escape  at  the  main  floor, 
we  sauntered  leisurely  up  to  the  mezzanine, 
where  for  several  minutes  we  observed  all 
those  who  were  seated  there.  At  last  just  as 
casually  we  decided  that  it  was  about  time  to 
make  the  attempt;  so  glancing  at  our  watches 
as  though  bent  upon  an  important  engagement, 
we  set  forth.  The  door  opened,  the  stairs 
clear,  dim  red  lights  at  occasional  intervals, 
and  up,  up,  until  it  seemed  we  had  climbed 
entirely  out  of  the  hotel  and  were  ascending 


28        PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

the  flagpole.  At  last  the  single  word 
"ELEVEN,"  shone  forth,  but  we  felt  as 
though  "EXCELSIOR"  had  taken  its  place. 

We  had  encountered  no  one,  and  we  began 
to  feel  a  great  deal  more  self-assured,  yet  the 
most  diflficult  part  of  the  journey  was  still 
ahead.  To  be  exact  as  we  had  figured  it,  the 
desk-clerk's  booth  lay  one  hundred  feet  to  the 
left  of  the  fire  escape  floor  entrance;  Lord 
Dunsany's  sitting  room  should  have  been  at 
least  fifty  feet  to  the  right  of  this  same  en- 
trance. The  point  was,  could  we  make  the 
sitting  room  before  the  floor  clerk  had  seen 
us,  and  even  were  that  possible,  would  we  be 
admitted  into  the  sitting  room? 

Looking  through  the  keyhole  revealed  noth- 
ing, and  we  finally  decided  to  take  a  chance 
and  advance.  A  few  seconds  later  we  were  in 
the  hall,  no  one  was  in  sight,  but  the  floor 
clerk  arose  as  we  appeared.  She  was  coming 
toward  us;  I  turned  and  walked  in  the  op- 
posite direction.  My  companion  followed  and 
a  minute  later  we  were  before  the  room  we 
desired  to  enter.  There  was  but  one  thing 
to  do,  in  view  of  the  circumstances  and — we 
did  it.  Without  knocking,  or  asking  permis- 
sion, we  opened  the  door  of  the  apartment 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  29 

ahead  of  us,  slipped  quickly  within  and  closed 
the  door  behind  us,  while  a  muttered  mumbled 
conversation  from  where  we  had  come  could 
be  heard  calling  for  assistance. 

The  room  in  front  of  us  was  empty,  and  we 
were  for  a  moment  taken  aback,  fearing  lest 
we  had  entered  the  wrong  suite  and  would  be 
held  as  burglars.  But  our  fears  were  soon  al- 
layed. The  door  opened  at  the  other  end  of 
the  room  and  a  stately,  elderly  lady  entered. 
On  perceiving  us,  she  hesitated  and  then 
called  back  into  the  room  from  which  she  had 
come. 

"Oh,  Edward,  here  are  the  two  young  men 
you  expected." 

I  admit  I  was  startled,  and  I  solemnly 
prayed  with  a  most  fervent  hope  that  the  "two 
young  men  expected"  would  never  turn  up,  at 
least  not  until  after  we  had  had  time  to  leave 
the  hotel.  My  companion  nudged  me  and 
giggled  foolishly. 

The  lady  told  us  to  take  off  our  things  and 
make  ourselves  comfortable.  She  then  busied 
herself  at  a  writing  desk,  on  which  we  per- 
ceived a  portable  typewriter.  It  was  Indeed 
interesting  to  know  that  poetry  was  being  con- 
ceived upon  a  machine  of  rake  and  thunder. 


30        PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

What  would  the  honorable  Shakespeare  say 
could  he  but  for  a  moment  glance  at  the  up-to- 
dateness  of  his  contemporary? 

We  were  seated  upon  a  soft,  comfy  sofa, 
and  had  plenty  of  time  to  glance  around  the 
room  before  the  poet  entered.  Although  it 
was  not  what  might  be  called  disorderly,  it 
could  not  have  been  termed  "in  perfect  shape." 
Papers  and  stray  bits  of  clothing  were  scat- 
tered at  odd  intervals  in  strange,  unknowing 
corners,  and  the  writing  desk  and  its  surround- 
ings were  the  most  noticeable  pieces  of  furni- 
ture. As  we  were  wondering  at  our  luck  in 
entry,  etc.,  we  saw  coming  through  the  door 
from  what  we  presumed  must  be  the  bedroom, 
a  singularly  tall  masculine  figure.  Six  feet  and 
seven  inches  may  be  ternied  "singular,"  es- 
specially  to  those  who  have  other  beliefs  about 
a  man  who  lives  on  ideals  and  suppositions. 

He  was  dressed  in  a  loose-fitting,  gray  suit, 
and  wore  long  brown  shoes  and  green  socks, 
which  were  hanging  in  most  unconventional 
angles  below  the  tip  end  of  his  trousers.  A 
monocle,  which  had  an  annoying  way  of  slip- 
ping out  of  his  eye  when  he  tried  to  discern 
anything  so  comical  as  the  "two  young  men  he 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  31 

had   expected,"    added   to   the   outfit   of   this 
picturesque   character   of   modern   literature. 

He  came  slowly  toward  us  and  we  knew  full 
well  what  was  traversing  his  brain,  nor  were 
we  surprised  when  he  spoke: 

"I  fear,  or  I  think,  or  by  the  way,  I  mean 
I  believe,  there  is  some  mistake,  is  there  not?" 

The  question  hung  heavily,  and  my  com- 
panion nudged  me  as  though  it  were  my  duty 
to  reply.  For  a  moment  there  was  an  awkward 
pause,  and  then  Lady  Dunsany  broke  the  si- 
lence, telling  her  husband  that  she  had  to  be 
off,  as  she  had  a  pressing  engagement.  She 
warned  him  not  to  be  late  for  tea  and  to  meet 
her  in  the  hall  forty  minutes  later. 

Forty  minutes,  could  we  stick  it  through? 
The  door  closed  and  the  poet's  monocle  took  . 
another  flop,  luckily  suspended  by  a  ribbon,  it 
fell  gently  to  his  chest.  He  wiped  it  carefully 
with  a  silk  handkerchief,  stretched  his  eyes 
and  face,  and  slowly  seated  himself  upon  the 
sofa.  We  who  had  arisen  at  his  approach, 
settled  ourselves  on  two  easy  chairs  and  com- 
menced to  talk. 

When  our  motive  for  being  in  the  room  had 
been  explained,  we  digressed  even  further, 
enough    to    tell    his    Lordship    how    we    had 


32        PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

reached  his  room,  the  penalties  for  failure, 
now  that  we  were  there,  and  the  long  weary 
vigils  of  the  other  newspaper  men  downstairs. 

At  this  moment  the  telephone  bell  rang  and 
the  poet  jumped  up  and  walked  quickly  over 
to  the  wall.  He  took  up  the  receiver  and 
awaited  the  voice.  We  too  heard  it,  and  we 
pitied  the  poor  usurper  of  the  wire. 

"Could  I  speak  with  the  Lord?"  she  was 
saying,  "I'm  a  little  girl  from  Englewood,  and 
I'd  like  to  have  a  few  words  from  his  mouth 
to  use  in  our  weekly,  to-morrow." 

Down  came  the  receiver  with  a  bang,  and 
the  peer  turned  upon  us: 

"There  is  one  thing  which  annoys  me  more 
than  anything  I  have  experienced  in  the  last 
ten  years  of  my  life,  and  that  is  that  miserable 
instrument,  invented  by  one  of  your  country- 
men, who  was  imbued  with  perhaps  the  same 
amount  of — (ahem)  nerve,  shall  we  call  it,  as 
you.  Some  night  I  shall  find  myself,  furtively 
stealing,  knife  in  hand,  to  the  wall  wherein 
this  machine  lies.  When  I  next  hear  its  ting- 
ling cry  I  shall  slowly  but  stealthily  bisect  its 
ligaments  of  torture. 

"I  have  one  great  question  to  ask  of  all 
Americans,  and  that  is,  why  so  many  persons 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  33 

insist  upon  ringing  me  up;  and  yet,  when  I  try 
to  communicate  with  some  poor  peaceful 
friend,  it  takes  me  hours  to  make  the  connec- 
tion." 

The  ice  was  broken,  and  as  it  segregated  and 
flowed  down  stream  we  began  to  realize  how 
very  human  this  poet  proved  to  be.  His  en- 
tire manner  was  one  which  attracted  the  lis- 
tener, gave  him  courage  and  interest.  I  must 
admit  Lord  Dunsany  is  one  of  the  few  men  I 
have  ever  met  who  have  held  my  complete  at- 
tention while  listening  to  them.  There  was  a 
freedom  and  jollity  of  speech  and  a  grace  of 
expression  seldom  found  In  men  of  his  voca- 
tion, at  first  acquaintance. 

We  asked  him  why  he  did  not  care  to  be  in- 
terviewed, and  he  replied: 

"Shortly  after  I  arrived  here  from  the 
steamer,  the  other  day,  somebody  rang  me  up 
and  asked  me  what  I  thought  of  New  York. 
I  was  taken  aback  and  very  much  perturbed, 
and  I  was,  my  wife  informed  me,  very  rude. 
I  had  been  here  just  twelve  hours,  most  of 
which  I  spent  far  from  New  York  because  I 
was  down  deep  amid  snow-white  linen. 

"Coming  into  a  country  the  eyes  see  the 
things  that  exist,  but  it  is  the  soul  only  that 


34        PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

can  give  the  answer.  I  want  to  get  down  to 
the  place  where  the  ideals  start,  where  the 
raw  material  begins,  and  then  I  can  tell  you 
what  I  think  of  your  city." 

At  last  he  had  said  something  different, 
something  away  from  the  cut-and-dried-phrases, 
usually  the  "last  word"  in  all  foreigners.  Our 
pencils  began  to  work  and  our  fingers  limbered 
up  for  the  test  that  might  be  coming.  Dunsany 
was  gazing  far  off  into  the  distance,  and  we 
gazed  for  a  moment  with  him. 

Born  in  1878  at  Dunsany  Castle,  his  father's 
estate  in  Ireland,  his  history  bore  for  a  mo- 
ment the  vision  which  he  himself  was  giving 
it.  His  name  and  ancestry  are  said  to  be  the 
third  oldest  in  Irish  history,  for  the  earliest 
records  show  that  in  1462  the  baronetcy  was 
granted  by  patent  to  a  Dunsany.  The  first 
peer  was  a  son  of  Sir  Christopher  Plunkett, 
deputy  governor  of  Ireland,  under  Sir  Thomas 
Stanley  and  the  Duke  of  York.  Sir  Christo- 
pher married  the  heiress  of  the  Lord  of  Kil- 
leen,  and  his  eldest  son  succeeded  to  what  be- 
came the  line  of  Fingall.  The  second  son  was 
made  the  first  baron,  but  the  twelfth  baron  was 
the  first  to  conform  to  the  Established  Church. 

It  is  said  that  the  name  Dunsany  is  of  Danish 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  35 

origin,  but  that  the  ancestors  settled  In  Ire- 
land sometime  before  the  Roman  conquest. 
The  present  Lord  Dunsany  was  educated  at 
Eton  and  Sandhurst  (the  British  West  Point). 
Besides  being  a  literary  man,  he  has  spent  many 
years  in  the  army,  and  in  1898  served  in  the 
Coldstream  Guards,  in  1901  in  South  Africa, 
and  in  19 14  received  a  commission  as  Captain 
in  the  Fifth  Royal  Inneskilling  Fusiliers.  At 
the  commencement  of  hostilities  he  went  to 
Gallipoli,  but  was  fortunate  In  that  he  was 
never  hurt;  however,  three  years  later,  In  the 
Dublin  riots,  he  was  severely  wounded  and 
spent  weary  months  in  the  hospitals  in  Eng- 
land. He  later  returned  to  the  British  front 
in  France,  and  up  until  June,  19 19,  was  sta- 
tioned with  the  Third  American  Army  on  the 
Rhine. 

Finally  he  mused  a  reply,  which  we  realized 
would  be  the  text  of  our  interview: 

"We  all  want  to  get  back  to  civilization 
again,  and  it  is  the  solemn  duty  of  every  one 
of  us  to  pull  together.  I  am  an  imperialist  of 
the  less  violent  type.  I  freely  admit  I  do  not 
love  the  English,  yet  I  held  three  commissions 
in  the  British  Army  at  times  when  the  United 


36        PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

Kingdom  needed  every  one  of  us,  and  no  one 
dared  question  or  impeach  my  loyalty. 

"Some  of  us  will  help  in  the  reconstruction 
by  laying  a  brick,  others  will  help  by  con^ 
ceiving  a  new  idea.  Everybody  cannot  build  a 
house,  nor  can  every  one  write  a  book.  As  in 
war  time,  we  each  have  some  individual  thing 
we  can  do  a  little  better  than  our  neighbor, 
and  so  in  peace  time  it  is  our  duty  to  put  to 
the  test  that  little  individual  thing  and  make 
it  stand  the  pressure  the  world  is  grasping  for. 

"Foch  saved  Paris  with  his  counter-attack 
in  19 1 8.  He  would  have  been  helpless  had 
it  not  been  for  the  fresh,  young  American 
troops  whom  he  wove  in  and  out  through  the 
lines  of  the  exhausted  French  and  British. 
And  even  those  troops  would  have  been  help- 
less, had  they  not  had  an  ideal  for  which  to 
fight. 

"Fancy,  which  upheld  the  weak,  saved  the 
world.  I  am  but  a  dreamer,  I  am  but  a  worker 
in  fancy,  but  I  am  here  in  America  to  do  my 
bit  in  the  reconstruction  of  the  literary  world. 

"Artists  deal  with  more  than  fancies.  They 
portray  them  upon  the  canvas,  and  their  ideals 
spring  to  life  when  those  who  lay  the  bricks 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  37 

perceive  them.  Yet  an  artist  seldom  gets  his 
inspiration  from  any  one,  save  the  poet. 

"We  all  help  one  another.  When  every- 
thing is  over  and  everything  is  built  in  a  city; 
when  the  business  is  done,  and  the  social  activi- 
ties are  completed,  a  fancy  remains.  That  is 
where  we  dramatists  begin, 

"Poets  deal  with  what  lies  beyond  motives. 
We  search  for  a  purpose,  an  object,  in  every- 
thing the  layman  does.  We  endeavor  to  mag- 
nify and  enlarge  that  object  so  that  it  will  as- 
sume shape  and  form  and  become  of  common 
interest.  A  poet  must  have  his  head  in  the 
clouds  and  his  feet  upon  the  earth.  Up  until 
the  time  when  I  prepared  to  enter  Eton,  I  was 
never  allowed  to  read  anything  save  the  Bible, 
and  occasionally  Grimm's  Fairy  Tales,  I 
wanted  to  have  my  mind  free  from  those 
things  which  might  corrupt  it;  and  so  to-day  I 
keep  my  thoughts  chiefly  above  what  is  going 
on,  that  is  why  I  cannot  answer  your  questions 
direct,  until  I  have  learned  to  see  from  whence 
they  come." 

At  this  moment  the  telephone  bell  jingled 
again,  and  in  a  much  less  furious  tone  the  poet 
took  up  the  receiver.  It  was  his  wife,  and  she 
was  advising  him  to  hasten  downstairs.     He 


38        PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

hung  up  the  receiver  and  turned  toward  us: 
"And  so,  young  men,  you  have  it.  I  could 
continue  rambling  in  my  brain  to  you,  until  the 
end  of  this  beautiful  day,  yet  my  wife  who  is, 
good  woman,  no  respecter  of  newspapers  or 
newspaper  men,  must  have  her  way,  and  I,  the 
dutiful  supporter  must  flee  to  her  side." 

He  laughed  and  held  out  his  hand.  My 
companion  took  it  and  went  out  of  the  door.  I 
grasped  it,  but  he  was  gazing  out  of  the  win- 
dow. The  room  faced  the  Commodore  Hotel 
and  the  lights  from  its  windows,  for  it  was 
now  well  after  dark,  made  queer  little  reflec- 
tions. 

"That's  a  beautiful  sight,"  I  heard  him  say. 
"The  artist  could  paint  the  picture,  the  builder 
could  lay  the  bricks,  but  the  masterpiece  of  the 
ages  would  be  what  the  poet  would  say  of  the 
reflections.  I  wonder  if  the  architect  who  de- 
signed that  hotel  ever  thought  for  a  moment 
of  the  symmetry  of  those  windows  in  daytime, 
and  their  absolute  entanglement  by  night.  A 
scattered  hair-brained  crew,  they  make  me 
think  of  soldiers  in  ragged  formation  in  Soviet 
Russia  by  night,  while  in  the  daytime  they  are 
the  saviors  of  salvation,  your  khaki  boys  of 
America." 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  39 

The  bell  was  ringing  again,  and  then  for 
once  I  had  the  supreme  pleasure  of  hearing 
the  great  poet  swear.  He  asked  me  to  pick  up 
the  receiver  while  he  went  to  get  his  hat.  The 
operator  wished  to  tell  me  that  his  wife  or- 
dered him  to  descend  at  once. 

I  hastened  to  his  side,  and  as  I  entered  the 
bedroom,  a  sight  greeted  my  eyes.  Strewn 
all  over  the  place  were  clothes  and  hats,  pieces 
of  paper  and  shoes.  In  the  center  of  the 
whirlwind  stood  the  poet,  with  anger  bursting 
from  his  cheeks.  He  had  lost  his  hat,  and  he 
was  not  leaving  a  stone  unturned  in  order  to 
find  it.  The  hat  in  question  was  resting  calmly 
on  the  corner  of  the  dressing  table  mirror,  and 
when  I  drew  his  attention  to  it,  he  made  a  wild 
bound  in  its  direction,  placed  it  firmly  upon  his 
head  and  tore  out  of  the  apartment.  I  fol- 
lowed, and  we  rang  for  the  elevator.  Just 
before  it  arrived,  Dunsany  realized  he  had 
failed  to  lock  the  door.  We  both  ran  back. 
Persons  standing  in  the  hall  must  have  thought 
us  quite  insane.  It  took  some  minutes  fum- 
bling to  find  the  key,  and  finally  the  door  was 
closed. 

Another  elevator  came  by.  We  entered  and 
flew  downwards.    Just  before  arriving,  he  said 


40        PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

good-bye  to  me  and  I  took  the  side  door  of  the 
hotel  to  the  street. 

The  shops  were  shining  brightly,  and  away 
up  in  the  Metropolitan  tower  the  specks  of 
light  gleamed  as  though  from  a  thousand 
candle  power. 

"A  scattered,  hair-brained  crew,  they  make 
me  think  of  soldiers  in  ragged  formation  in 
Soviet  Russia,  by  night,  while  in  the  daytime 
they  are  saviors  of  salvation,  your  khaki 
boys  of  America."  It  was  a  beautiful  thought, 
and  one  which  I  have  held  in  mind  every  time  I 
gazed  upon  New  York's  Incandescence  by  night. 


CHAPTER  IV 

INTO  THE  FROZEN  NORTH 

We  were  seated  round  a  camp  fire,  high  up 
on  a  bank  overlooking  the  Spray  River,  south 
of  Banff,  in  the  Canadian  Rockies,  one  Autumn 
evening.  On  all  sides  of  us  arose  tremendous 
timbers  and  impenetrable  evergreen  under- 
brush. Behind  us,  in  among  the  trees,  were 
two  tents,  emanating  from  which  one  could 
hear  the  rhythmic  snoring  of  their  inhabitants. 

Through  the  smoke  a  motley  gathering 
could  be  distinguished,  and  the  fiery  red  of  a 
Mounted  Policeman's  jacket  added  color  to  the 
scene.  Two  trappers,  tired  from  a  long  day's 
walk  through  the  Kananaskis  Valley,  leisurely 
smoked  their  brier-root  pipes;  while  an  Eskimo 
tanned  by  the  "suns"  of  Alberta,  leaned  on  his 
elbow  as  if  straining  to  hear  every  word.  An 
aviator,  whose  chief  occupation  was  that  of 
driving  his  flying  chariot  over  the  nearby  lakes, 
was  also  in  the  gathering,  and  accompanying 
him  a  stalwart  cowboy  from  the  plains. 

4' 


42        PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

The  camp  was  that  of  Vilhaljmar  Stefans- 
son,  Arctic  explorer  and  president  of  the  Ex- 
plorers' Club  of  America.  He  had  been  camp- 
ing at  this  picturesque  spot  for  several  weeks, 
whilst  completing  a  book  describing  the 
last  trip  he  had  made  into  the  Arctic  Regions. 
The  notes  and  other  data  collected  during  that 
time  were  in  safekeeping  with  Storker  Storken- 
sen,  his  faithful  admirer,  and  second  mate  of 
the  vessel  on  which  he  had  completed  his  last 
trip;  but  Storkensen  preferred  the  pine  boughs 
beneath  the  tent  to  the  curling  campfire  smoke. 

We  had  been  talking  for  several  hours,  but 
seldom  had  our  conversation  drifted  to  the 
Arctic  Regions,  for  Mr.  Stefansson  was  known 
to  dislike  discussing  himself  or  his  achieve- 
ments. As  the  night  progressed,  and  the 
friendship  first  gained  was  strengthened,  we 
took  courage,  and  asked  Mr.  Stefansson  to 
tell  us  a  tale,  such  as  had  never  before  been 
seen  in  print. 

For  a  long  time  he  did  not  reply,  but  it  was 
easily  seen  that  his  calm  features  were  under- 
going a  terrible  struggle,  for  when  he  finally 
spoke  a  shadow  of  a  tear  came  into  his  eyes: 

"It  was  during  the  winter  of  19 16-17,  when 
we  were  camped  on  Melville  Island,  some  five- 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  43 

hundred  miles  northeast  of  the  eastern  portion 
of  Alaska,"  he  began,  "that  one  of  the  most 
important  morale  lessons  I  have  ever  known 
was  taught  me. 

"Our  winter  quarters  were  constructed  from 
huge  cakes  of  ice,  joined  together  with  snow 
and  hail.  The  walls  of  each  of  our  five  round- 
houses, as  well  as  the  floors,  were  covered  with 
the  skins  of  seal,  bear  and  caribou.  In  two 
of  these  houses,  Storkensen  and  I,  together 
with  fifteen  Eskimos  had  built  our  quarters. 
Our  dogs  and  sleds  were  in  two  other  houses 
and  our  food  and  equipment  in  another. 

"The  nearest  island  to  ours  was  Victoria 
Island,  sixty  miles  across  a  frozen  sea.  Next 
to  It  was  Banks  Island,  a  distance  of  one  hun- 
dred miles  from  our  winter  quarters.  The 
Polar  Bear,  one  of  my  ships,  aboard  which 
was  one  white  man  in  charge  of  twelve  Eski- 
mos, was  frozen  in  on  Victoria  Island.  She  was 
well  provisioned,  but  had  a  scarcity  of  sugar. 
The  North  Star,  another  one  of  my  ships  on 
which  there  were  several  men  and  a  quantity 
of  provisions,  was  frozen  in  on  the  north- 
western end  of  Banks  Island;  and  on  the  south- 
eastern corner  of  this  same  locality  I  had  a 
third   ship,    the   Mary   Sachs,   commanded   by 


44        PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

Captain  Barnard,  with  Charlie  Thompson,  an- 
other white  man,  and  twenty  Eskimos.  This 
vessel  was  the  only  one  of  the  three  that  was 
floating,  and  being  well  provisioned  we  had 
no  fear  for  her  safety;  so  when  I  had  left 
Captain  Barnard  I  had  instructed  him  that 
should  any  vessel  pass  by  during  our  absence, 
with  mail  or  news  for  me,  he  was  to  keep  such 
things  aboard  the  Mary  Sachs,  until  he 
should  hear  from  me.  I  had  firmly  impressed 
upon  him  that  he  must  not  undertake  to  bring 
mail  to  me  no  matter  how  important  it  should 
prove  to  be. 

"As  you  may  remember,  during  the  years  of 
19 14  and  19 1 5  my  Arctic  exploration  party 
were  believed  to  have  been  lost,  and  it  was  not 
until  early  19 16  that  the  news  reached  home 
that  we  were  still  alive.  In  the  summer  of  the 
latter  year,  a  whaling  schooner,  the  Her- 
man, from  San  Francisco,  with  Captain 
Pedersen  in  charge,  called  at  the  Mary  Sachs, 
and  left  four  hundred  pounds  of  mail  for  me. 

"Meanwhile  during  the  same  summer,  I  had 
left  my  winter  quarters  on  Melville  Island  to 
see  how  my  men  were  faring  on  the  North 
Star;  and  knowing  that  the  supply  of  sugar 
was  very  low  on  the  Polar  Bear,   I  had  or- 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  45 

dered  the  Eskimos  who  were  with  me  to  carry 
loads  of  three  hundred  pounds  each,  and  place 
them  in  caches  along  the  northern  portion  of 
Banks  Island,  for  the  purpose  of  relaying  them 
to  the  Polar  Bear.  But  after  three  of  these 
caches  had  been  made  and  filled  we  had  a  very 
bad  storm,  and  it  was  all  we  could  do  to  reach 
Melville  Island  ourselves,  so  that  the  Polar 
Bear  never  received  her  full  complement  of 
sugar. 

"As  the  autumn  came  on,  Captain  Barnard 
thought  that  I  should  have  my  mail,  and  ignor- 
ing my  commands  decided  that  he  would  see 
that  I  received  it.  Furthermore,  he  thought 
that,  as  he  had  not  heard  from  us,  something 
disastrous  had  happened,  and  that  it  was  up 
to  him  to  see  what  It  was.  He  grew  more 
and  more  restless,  and  on  October  26,  19 16, 
could  no  longer  restrain  himself;  so  he  and 
Charlie  Thompson  set  forth  with  two  sleds 
and  two  dog  teams  to  find  me. 

"Now,  Barnard  and  Thompson  were  both 
Alaskan  guides  and  were  accustomed  to  travel- 
ing with  dog  and  sled  almost  all  year  long 
over  the  frozen  north.  Neither  of  them,  how- 
ever, realized  the  full  value  of  food,  and 
neither  of  them  had  ever  been  out  more  than 


46        PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

a  week  at  a  time  without  seeing  signs  of  some- 
thing human. 

"At  this  time  of  year,  in  that  region  of  the 
Arctic,  there  is  no  real  daylight,  never  light 
enough  to  read  a  newspaper  out-of-doors,  but 
a  constant  sort  of  twilight  prevails. 

"Captain  Barnard  and  Charlie  Thompson 
had  taken  with  them  enough  provisions  to  last 
fifteen  days,  rice  and  seal-fat  for  the  dogs,  but 
had  neglected  to  bring  any  sugar.  In  Alaska, 
as  in  the  United  States,  they  had  regarded 
sugar  as  a  luxury,  something  with  which  to 
sweeten  tea  or  coffee,  so  to  them  it  had  never 
been  a  necessity.  They  could  not  regard  it 
as  I  did,  the  most  essential  nourishment  a  man 
can  have  in  the  north. 

"The  distance  to  Melville  Island  was  four 
hundred  miles,  but  In  Alaska  one  could  travel 
that  distance  in  ten  days  over  smooth,  snowy 
trails,  provided  one  had  a  good  team  of  dogs. 
However,  it  took  Barnard  and  Thompson  just 
fifteen  days  to  reach  the  North  Star,  which 
was  less  than  a  third  of  the  distance,  and  here 
they  replenished  their  larder  and  started  out 
to  reach  us.  Five  days  later  they  came  upon 
our  first  cache,  and  by  signs  which  we  dis- 
covered later  on  they  took  most  of  the  hard 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  47 

bread,  raisins  and  tobacco,  but  they  did  not 
even  touch  a  sack  of  sugar.  It  must  have  been 
well  over  a  week  before  they  reached  our 
second  cache,  and  we  found  it  in  the  same  con- 
dition as  the  first — provisions  gone,  but  not  a 
trace  of  having  handled  a  single  bag  of  sugar. 

"And  two  weeks  later  they  reached  the  third 
and  last  cache,  and  here  they  must  have 
camped  a  few  days,  for  we  found  charred 
sticks,  and  burnt  matches,  but  as  before,  the 
sugar  untouched.  Almost  two  months  after 
they  had  started  they  reached  the  Bay  of 
Mercy,  on  the  northeastern  side  of  Banks  Is- 
land; they  were  evidently  having  a  hard  time 
to  procure  food,  for  we  found  signs  of  frozen 
fish  having  been  chopped  in  the  ice. 

"Here  they  must  have  placed  their  sleds  on 
the  frozen  sea  and  set  forth  across  an  open 
stretch  to  reach  my  camp,  some  hundred  miles 
away,  but  they  never  got  further  than  twenty 
miles  from  shore,  whether  on  account  of  an 
opening  in  the  ice  or  an  ice  storm,  we  never 
knew.  They  turned  back  leaving  a  quantity 
of  second-class  mail,  one  of  their  sleds  and 
the  frozen  bodies  of  under-fed  dogs.  On  the 
handle    bars    of    the    sled    we    found    a    note 


48        PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

scribbled  by  hands  that  must  have  been  nearly 
frozen.  It  was  dated  December  22nd — the 
shortest  day  of  the  year. 

*'  'We  left  our  cache  on  ice  twenty  miles  east  from  this 
point;  we  are  out  of  grub  and  our  dogs  are  dying;  we  have 
your  mail  which  we  are  taking  with  U8.' 

"They  then  went  back  to  Banks  Island  with 
one  sled  and  ten  dogs,  but  when  they  reached 
the  shores  of  the  Bay  of  Mercy,  they  were 
obliged  to  chop  their  sled  in  two,  for  being 
famished  and  very  weak  neither  they  nor  their 
dogs  could  manage  to  pull  their  equipment 
any  farther. 

"In  January  I  sent  a  party  across  the  frozen 
sea  to  our  sugar  cache  on  Banks  Island.  Each 
cache  is  protected  from  roving  animals  by  a 
trap  or  pitfall  of  some  sort  or  other,  and  often 
we  catch  polar  bears,  foxes,  seals  and  occasion- 
ally musk-ox  in  them.  Storkensen  was  in 
charge  of  this  party,  and  twenty  miles  from 
the  Bay  of  Mercy  he  found  the  first  sled  and 
some  of  the  mail,  but  he  also  found  the  piece 
of  paper,  which  told  the  tale.  Hurrying 
swiftly  on  they  reached  the  last  cache  a  week 
later,  and  they  carefully  examined  it  too,  for  a 
seal  just  recently  caught  was  found  in  the  trap, 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  49 

but  though  much  of  the  provisions  were  gone, 
the  sugar  was  untouched. 

"Between  this  and  the  next  cache  they  found 
a  deep  valley  formed  by  snow  slides,  and  all 
about  it,  dried  fragments  of  caribou  skin. 
Storkensen's  curiosity  was  aroused,  so  they 
commenced  digging  into  a  hole  that  looked  as 
though  it  might  be  the  winter  quarters  of  a 
silver  fox.  After  they  had  dug  four  feet  one 
of  the  Eskimos  perceived  something  white  and 
glistening  and,  mustering  all  the  English  that 
he  knew,  exclaimed  with  great  eagerness,  'Salt- 
pork' ;  for  to  his  manner  of  thinking  this  was 
one  of  the  greatest  luxuries  of  the  frozen 
north.  Storkensen  ran  up,  and  they  dug 
around  the  glistening  white  morsel,  only  to  re- 
veal the  shoulder  of  a  frozen  man. 

"A  thorough  discovery  showed  the  rest  of 
the  body,  and  they  all  recognized  Charlie 
Thompson,  who  had  frozen,  evidently  while 
sleeping.  He  was  so  thin  that  every  bone  pro- 
truded above  his  skin,  and  his  eyes  were  so 
far  sunken  into  his  skull  that  it  is  doubtful 
whether  he  could  see  when  he  had  died.  But 
his  body  was  so  well  preserved  that  at  first 
they  thought  he  was  only  sleeping. 

"The    search    party   kept   on,    and   late  in 


50        PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

February,  19 17,  found  at  the  second  cache  a 
quarter  of  the  last  sled.  It  was  all  chopped 
up,  and  we  believe  the  man  must  have  done  it 
with  his  hands  in  a  vain  endeavor  to  light  a 
fire.  Although  the  bag  was  filled  with  sugar, 
not  a  sack  had  been  turned  over — not  a  sack 
examined.  The  search  continued  until  May, 
but  they  never  found  a  trace  of  Captain  Bar- 
nard's body,  the  dogs,  the  rest  of  the  sled,  nor 
the  mail. 

"The  mail  would  have  been  a  story  in  itself 
had  I  been  spared  the  tragedy  of  receiving  it, 
for  it  was  the  first  mail  sent  to  me,  after  it  be- 
came known  that  I  was  not  lost,  and  that  I  was 
still  alive  in  the  Arctic  Circle.  The  lives  of  the 
two  men  would  surely  have  been  saved  if  they 
had  only  recognized  that  sugar  was  a  food  and 
not  a  condiment." 

As  Mr.  Stefansson  finished  his  story  I  saw 
by  the  dim  light  of  the  smouldering  fire  be- 
tween us  the  tears  that  were  in  his  eyes,  and 
gazing  with  him  into  the  dying  embers  I  too 
could  see  a  white,  glistening  shoulder,  eighteen 
lean,  frozen  dogs,  and  the  dim  form  of  Captain 
Barnard,  who  seemed  to  be  remonstrating  that 
disobedience  was  not  one  of  the  assets  of  a 
faithful  explorer. 


CHAPTER  V 

HYPOCRISY 

Some  persons  live  for  notoriety,  some  die  for 
it,  while  some  have  it  merely  thrust  upon  them. 
In  my  short  experience  as  a  journalist,  I  have 
found  that  above  all  other  things  in  life,  the 
public,  no  matter  who  they  be,  with  very  few 
exceptions  revel  In  publicity.  And  the  excep- 
tions to  this  rule  are  not  the  exceptions  one 
would  usually  suspect. 

Theodore  Roosevelt  was  possibly  the  best 
known  man  in  this  generation,  throughout  the 
civilized  world.  Whatever  his  misgivings,  and 
they  were  mighty  few,  people  of  these  times 
knew  Colonel  Roosevelt's  every  move  and 
gesture,  and  many  of  them  knew  or  thought 
they  knew  his  voice.  From  darkest  Africa 
to  the  land  of  barren  ice  and  fields  of  snow; 
from  the  imperial  thresholds  of  European 
courts,  to  the  rice  fields  of  interior  Asia, 
the  name  Roosevelt  was  respected.  We  knew 
Colonel    Roosevelt    not    as    a    man    of    great 

5' 


52        PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

wealth  or  social  position,  although  in  our  heart 
of  hearts  we  also  knew  that  he  possessed  both 
of  these,  but  we  knew  him  as  a  man  who  ac- 
complished things,  a  fearless,  courageous  man, 
yet  withal  as  endearing  and  kind  as  the  littlest 
child.  The  ideal  American  was  typified  in  all 
that  Roosevelt  said  or  did,  and  America  never 
held  such  a  prestige  among  nations  as  she  did 
during  his  administration. 

Sometimes  we  ask  ourselves  how  Colonel 
Roosevelt  reached  the  pinnacle  of  world  pres- 
tige; sometimes  we  are  inclined  to  wonder 
what  method  he  used  to  attain  the  place  he 
made  for  himself  in  this  great  nation  of  ours, 
yet  we  seldom  stop  to  consider  that  had  it 
not  been  for  careful,  dignified,  publicity 
methods,  Roosevelt  would  probably  not  have 
been  able  to  gain  the  place  among  the  peoples 
of  the  world  that  he  did.  The  quickest  in- 
centive to  fame,  to  any  pedestal  above  that 
occupied  by  all  us  plain  mortals,  is  through 
publicity,  provided  the  publicity  is  handled  with 
efficiency. 

There  are  many  people  in  the  United  States 
to-day  who  resort  to  this  method  of  command- 
ing public  attention,  if  but  for  a  few  moments; 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  53 

there  are  thousands  of  people,  who  live  and 
even  die,  in  order  to  secure  but  a  line's  notice 
of  their  achievements  in  the  public  press. 
America  is  filled  with  highly  developed 
publicity  agents,  each  with  a  new  thought  of 
his  own,  some  new  suggestion,  some  spark  to 
attract  the  weary  eyes  of  the  public,  and  very 
few  businesses  to-day  are  conducted  with- 
out some  form  of  publicity  as  a  background. 
We  may  not  realize  it,  and  most  of  us  do  not, 
yet  we  are  taken  in  by  a  new  sight  at  least  once 
every  day.  The  wary  street-hawker,  the  glis- 
tening shop  windows,  the  lassie  in  the  latest 
fashion,  all  are  symbols  of  something  deeper 
than  most  imaginations  can  penetrate. 

Some  one  once  remarked  that  doing  business 
without  publicity  was  Hke  winking  at  a  girl 
in  the  dark;  you  know  what  you  are  doing,  but 
nobody  else  does.  He  was  quite  correct  in 
his  statement,  for  publicity  when  properly 
carried  out  is  so  subtle  that  very  few  people 
catch  on,  until  it  is  time  for  them  to  know — 
and  then  it  doesn't  matter. 

Newspaper  offices  are  the  constant  prey  of 
all  sorts  and  kinds  of  publicity  stunts.  The 
flagrant,  matter-of-fact  departmental  store 
pamphlets,  down  to  the  mysterious  "tip,"  are 


54        PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

all  part  and  parcel  of  the  same  game.  Some- 
times the  editors  see  through  the  game,  but 
occasionally  they  are  also  caught  in  the  trap 
so  carefully  laid  by  these  seekers  after  the 
golden  fleece  of  free  publicity. 

Probably  the  most  notorious  manifesto  in 
recent  years  was  that  which  occurred  in  New 
York  less  than  two  years  ago.     Many  of  those 
who  take  time  enough  to  read  these  lines  will 
remember  the  African  nobleman  who  landed 
with  great  pomp  upon  these  shores  in  the  win- 
ter of  1920,  announcing  that  he  had  come  to 
this  country  in  quest  of  his  long-lost  daughter. 
For  days   the  press   teemed  with   excitement. 
Flocks  of  newspapermen  and  women  followed 
every  move  which  the  foreigner  made.    When 
he  went  out  at  night  the  exact  details  of  all  his 
movements  were  recorded.     At  last  the  great 
day  arrived.     It  was  announced  that  the  little 
girl,  now  over  twenty  years  of  age,  had  been 
found  in  a  tenement  house  on  the  lower  east 
side.     The  press  photographers  and  a  large 
group  of  curiosity  seekers  presented  themselves 
upon  the  scene.    For  a  time  no  one  noticed,  and 
then  all  of  a  sudden  the  whole  monstrous  plot 
became  bared,   for  cameras  were   filming  the 
crowds,   individually  and  in  separate  groups, 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  55 

and  from  the  alley  entrance  there  emerged  a 
beautiful  satellite  of  the  silver  screen.  Two 
months  later,  when  the  motion  picture  was  pre- 
sented, New  York  City  realized  how  grossly  it 
had  been  "taken  in." 

In  February,  1920,  six  months  after  the 
occurrence  described  above,  the  Night  City 
desk  of  the  former  New  York  Herald  re- 
ceived a  hurry  call  for  a  reporter.  The 
nature  of  the  assignment  was  not  known,  nor 
the  name  of  the  person  who  wished  to  com- 
municate to  the  public  through  the  medium  of 
the  press,  the  only  specifications  being  the 
hotel  and  room  number. 

At  ten  o'clock  that  evening  I  presented  my- 
self at  a  private  dining  room  on  the  first  floor 
of  the  Vanderbilt  Hotel,  Voices  could  be 
heard  from  within  as  well  as  a  strong  odor 
issuing  from  innumerable  cigars.  I  opened 
the  door  and  saw  before  me  a  large  number  of 
reporters  seated  in  a  semi-circle  smoking  and 
drinking  some  delectable-looking  liquor.  At 
the  head  of  the  room,  clothed  in  Oriental  cos- 
tume of  much  imagination,  was  seated  a  gentle- 
man who  had  violently  opposed  my  entry  into 
journalism ! 

For  a  moment  I  believed  I  saw  him  wince, 


56        PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

and  then  realizing  that,  as  far  as  I  went,  "his 
game"  was  up,  he  motioned  me  quietly  to 
a  seat.  A  valet,  arrayed  in  much  the  same 
manner  as  his  employer,  brought  to  me  choice 
morsels  to  eat  and  drink,  but  I  partook  of 
neither. 

And  in  a  whimsical  voice  of  the  East,  he  con- 
tinued the  discourse  I  had  interrupted.  He 
was  describing  a  new  menace  to  the  Far  East, 
and  his  solution  for  a  suitable  cure.  It  was  a 
scheme  to  educate  the  Far  Easterners  into  the 
manners  and  customs  of  our  Occidental  world; 
a  bold,  carefree  plan,  but  to  one  who  knows 
the  tendencies  and  sensibilities  of  the  Far  East, 
a  plan  which  could  never  attain  much  suc- 
cess. 

"This  is  one  of  the  great  epoch-making 
schemes  of  the  world,"  he  went  on.  "Ancient 
China  civilized  is  almost  too  remarkable  to  be 
believed.  It  is  not  an  unreasonable  supposi- 
tion that  China  may  some  day  be  vital.  Ger- 
many is  working  vigorously  to  acquire  strength 
in  man  power  and  resources  from  Bolshevist 
Russia.  Germany  still  looks  forward  to  war 
and  domination  through  it.  Germany  is  trying 
to  absorb  material  strength  from  Russia  and 
again  become  a  world  menace. 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  57 

"A  plan  has  already  been  launched  and  Is 
rapidly  under  way  whereby  the  French  Govern- 
ment, with  the  co-operation  of  the  Chinese 
Government,  is  receiving  Chinese  students  for 
one  year's  service.  It  is  my  duty  to  tell  Ameri- 
cans these  facts  and  try  to  influence  them  to 
aid  the  great  miseries  of  these  nations.  I  want 
to  form  a  Committee  in  America  to  aid  in  this 
great  undertaking,  and  we  want  several  hun- 
dred thousand  dollars,  etc.,  etc." 

At  this  moment  I  began  to  see  through  the 
clouds  which  had  first  obscured  my  horizon, 
and  the  sunshine  of  my  vision  soon  became 
very  powerful.  I  arose,  seemingly  to  take  my 
leave.  The  speaker  stopped  his  sing-song  long 
enough  to  breathe  a  sigh — perhaps  of  relief. 
The  valet  motioned  me  to  the  door.  I  did  not, 
however,  take  the  proffered  advice.  Instead  I 
went  to  a  telephone  concealed  near  the  window, 
and  picking  up  the  receiver  said  in  a  low  voice, 
but  audible  enough  to  be  heard  around  the 


room 


The  house  detective,  please." 
Before  the  words  were  out  of  my  mouth 
the  other  men  were  upon  their  feet,  dazed,  be- 
wildered, confused.   I  believe,   for  an  instant 
they  thought  I  was  a  prohibition  agent,  and 


58        PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

that  they  would  all  spend  the  night  in  the 
Tombs. 

When  questioned,  I  replied  that  the  "freak" 
to  whom  they  were  listening  would  explain. 
With  one  accord  they  grouped  themselves 
around  my  adversary.  What  could  he  say, 
and  what  dared  he  say?  Then,  out  of  sheer 
helplessness  he  called  me  aside.  We  spoke  in 
lowered  tones  for  a  few  seconds,  and  he  re- 
quested all  the  newspapermen  to  leave  him. 

When  they  had  gone  my  irritator  held  out 
his  hand  and  begged  me  to  forgive  him.  I 
felt  I  had  done  him  enough  harm,  and  so 
we  decided  to  drop  the  entire  controversy. 
I  am  not  at  liberty,  however,  to  mention 
this  gentleman's  name,  but  I  may  say,  that 
the  winner  of  a  number  of  foreign  decorations 
and  an  important  figure  in  a  famous  allied  war 
relief  fund  was  he  in  whose  heart  of  hearts  was 
an  insensate  desire  for  notoriety. 

The  American  system  of  advertising  agen- 
cies was  originated  by  Orlando  Bourne  in  1828. 
He  was  followed  twelve  years  later  by  V.  B. 
Palmer,  who  established  agencies  In  Philadel- 
phia, New  York  and  Boston,  and  in  i860  the 
system  was  vastly  extended,  so  as  to  permit 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  59 

companies  forming  all  over  the  United  States. 

The  general  system  of  advertising  com- 
panies is  to  direct  the  movements  of  paid 
columnar  advertising  in  newspapers  and  mag- 
azines, but  there  are  other  would-be  "publicity" 
agencies  which  make  it  their  duty  to  promul- 
gate the  interests  of  some  "would-be"  well- 
known  persons  by  using  the  space  allotted  to 
current  news  for  that  purpose.  The  office  of 
the  Herald  was  almost  daily  besieged  with 
all  kinds  of  agents  seeking  space  for  the 
photographs  and  news  items  of  their  respec- 
tive clients.  It  was  not  an  uncommon  sight 
to  see  these  persons  offering  sums  of  money 
a  great  deal  larger  than  a  reporter  ever  ex- 
pected to  gaze  upon,  displayed  in  a  tempting 
manner  to  under-paid  employees  on  condition 
that  if  they  could,  by  hook  or  crook,  insert  the 
desired  information,  they  should  partake. 

Much  of  the  material  inserted  in  social 
columns  and  many  of  the  photographs  in  the 
society  sections  of  American  newspapers  to- 
day do  not  represent  those  who  are  really  ac- 
tive in  the  various  lines,  but  rather  those  whose 
publicity  agents  are  active  for  them. 

It  is  the  same  way  with  most  of  the  social 
magazines  of  our  times,  especially  some  that 


6o        PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

resort  to  terms  of  fixed  amounts  for  "legalized 
publicity."  One  periodical  in  particular  has 
a  perturbing  way  of  approaching  one  once  a 
year,  with  contracts  whose  contracting  reason 
is  carefully  hidden.  It  is  stated  that  If  the 
client  wishes  to  release  a  fixed  sum,  none  but 
the  good  will  appear  in  its  columns  during  the 
year.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  the  cash  payment 
is  not  forthcoming,  he  is  given  to  understand 
that  everything  which  is  mean  and  irregular 
will  appear.  And  sad  to  relate,  many  persons 
are  "led  astray"  by  this  dire  threat.  Those 
periodicals  are  merely  paid  advertising  col- 
umns, wherein  one  may  read  all  the  choice 
bits  of  scandals  concerning  one's  friends,  and 
all  the  flatlering  bits  of  gossip  about  oneself. 

There  are  other  agencies  that  make  It  a 
business  to  approach  people  whose  names  con- 
stantly appear  before  the  public.  After  the 
desired  introductions,  they  continue  their  ob- 
noxious plans  by  assuring  their  clients  that 
should  any  scandal  appear,  or  be  about  to 
appear  in  the  press,  they  will  positively  not 
permit  it  to  go  any  further,  and  will  "hush  up" 
all  headline  stories.  To  those  who  are  inclined 
to  follow  the  gay,  white  way,  or  to  those  whose 
chief  pastime  in  life  is  to  intrigue  with  other 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  6i 

people's  wives,  this  is  a  cheerful  proposition. 
The  fatted  calf  is  seldom  caught.  It  is  as- 
tonishing how  many  people  believe  the  story 
which  these  concerns  disseminate,  and  it  is  as- 
tonishing how  many  important  names  appear 
on  their  books.  Very  few  persons  realize  that 
no  agency  of  this  kind  can  exist  in  newspaper 
circles  without  being  abhorred  by  decent  news- 
papermen. Nobody  can  check  news  of  value 
once  it  is  launched  except  the  managing  or 
controlling  editor  of  a  newspaper.  Therefore, 
the  functioning  of  these  agencies  ends,  as  soon 
as  they  have  gained  their  reward. 

There  are  other  people  who,  when  their, 
nearest  and  dearest  relatives  are  at  the  point 
of  death,  when  they  know  they  will  have  but 
a  few  minutes  to  be  with  them,  call  up  the 
newspaper  offices  and  tell  the  reporters  that 
their  next  of  kin  is  dying.  I  remember  the 
first  time  I  was  initiated  into  this  manner 
of  news.  It  was  just  before  the  hour  of 
"press"  one  evening,  and  the  City  Editor 
asked  me  to  answer  the  telephone. 

Armed  with  pad  and  pencil  I  entered  the 
booth  and  picked  up  the  receiver.  Somebody 
was  weeping  at  the  other  end,  and  when  I 
asked  what  I  could  do,  a  tearful  voice  replied: 


62        PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

"It's  about  John  McKeef.  He's  dying,  and 
I  want  you  to  say  he  was  a  good  man,  and 
lived  a  good,  clean  life." 

And  with  that  the  woman  hung  up  the 
receiver.  Rather  bewildered  I  turned  in  the 
information  to  the  desk.  The  City  Editor 
in  an  apparent  rage  asked  me  who  John 
McKeef  was,  where  he  lived,  what  he  was  dying 
of,  and  a  hundred  and  one  other  questions.  I 
looked  blank  and  said  I  didn't  know. 

The  next  time  I  heard  a  sobbing  voice,  I 
renewed  my  courage  and  demanded  sternly: 

"What  do  you  want?" 

"Is  this  a  reporter,"  was  the  reply. 

I  ansvv-ered  that  it  was,  and  requested  a 
quick  answer  stating  that  I  had  other  things 
to  do  besides  taking  down  notes  over  the  tele- 
phone. 

"Well,"  said  the  voice,  evidently  stifling  a 
sob,  "Isaac  died  to-night.  He  was  a  good  man 
and  deserves  to  be  placed  in  the  morning 
paper." 

I  replied  that  I  would  see  what  I  could  do, 
but  that  I  wanted  detailed  information. 

"Isaac  Rosenbaum,  of  15  Hammerstein 
Place,  a  master  plumber  for  twenty  years, 
and  an  electrician  of  prominence,  died  a  few 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  63 

moments  ago  at  his  home.  He  died  of 
ptomaine  poisoning,  and  was  ill  only  three 
hours  before  his  death.  He  was  a  very  hand- 
some man,  not  too  tall  nor  too  short.  He  had 
an  excellent  voice  and  sang  at  house-parties 
and  other  entertainments.  He  leaves  a  son, 
two  daughters  and  a  wife.  The  children  are 
all  grown  up,  and  one  of  them  has  children  of 
her  own.  Mr.  Rosenbaum  liked  his  grand- 
children very  well.  He  will  be  buried  day  after 
to-morrow  at  the  Broadway  Tabernacle,"  and 
so  on  with  a  list  of  the  pall  bearers,  etc. 

The  next  morning  the  following  announce- 
ment appeared  in  the  obituary  columns: 

"Isaac  Rosenbaum,  of  15  Hammerstein 
Place,  master  plumber,  died  at  his  home  last 
night.  Funeral  services  will  be  held  at  the 
Broadway  Tabernacle  to-morrow  afternoon." 

After  weeks  of  obituary  notices,  which  usu- 
ally come  in  around  nine  or  ten  in  the  evening, 
I  became  accustomed  to  this  kind  of  publicity. 
Reporters  claim  that  some  poor  souls  die  for 
the  sake  of  getting  their  names  in  the  papers. 

One  evening,  about  a  year  ago,  I  had 
one  of  the  weirdest  incidents  I  ever 
handled. 

The  accustomed  sobbing  voice  replied  to  my 


64        PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

query,  and  then  I  was  given  a  long,  detailed 
description  of  the  gentleman  in  question. 
When  I  asked  from  what  cause  he  died,  I  re- 
ceived the  following  reply: 

"Oh,  he  hasn't  passed  away  yet!" 

I  then  demanded  why  the  lady  on  the  other 
end  of  the  line  had  called  up. 

"Well,  he's  going  to  die  any  minute,"  she 
replied,  "and  I  just  wanted  to  acquaint  you  of 
the  fact." 

An  hour  after  we  went  to  press  with  the  first 
edition  that  evening,  the  same  weeping  voice 
called  me  up : 

"How  much  time  have  I  got?"  was  the  ques- 
tion. 

"Time  for  what,"  I  replied. 

"Well,  time  until  you  go  to  press?" 

I  told  her  we  had  already  gone  to  press,  and 
that  there  were  twenty  minutes  left  before  the 
second  edition  went  on  the  rollers. 

Exactly  eighteen  minutes  later  I  picked  up 
the  receiver,  and  the  voice  announced  that  her 
husband  had  passed  away  a  few  seconds  pre- 
vious. 

Can  any  one  imagine  a  right  thinking  per- 
son doing  such  a  thing  in  order  to  have  the 
publicity  to  which  she  believed  she  was  entitled, 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  65 

and  yet  this  woman's  husband  was  an  Influen- 
tial  man  In   the  manufacture   of   automobile 

tires. 

So  again  I  repeat,  some  live  for  publicity, 
some  have  publicity  thrust  upon  them,  and 
some  die  for  the  germ  of  notoriety. 


CHAPTER  VI 

JUST  A  HUSBAND 

"Who  is  Jaques  M ,  and  why  has  he 

gained  such  a  lot  of  notoriety?"  was  the  ques- 
tion which  was  foremost  on  the  lips  of  many 
people  in  the  Spring  of  1920. 

For  the  past  few  days  the  dailies  of  New 
York  had  been  tossing  his  name  back  and  forth, 
as  though  questioning  one  another  as  to  its 
authenticity.  A  skit  had  appeared  in  one 
of  the  Pacific  Coast  weeklies  telling  of  the 
wedding  trip  of  an  important  Frenchman,  and 
describing  minutely  various  endearing  scenes. 
It  professed  to  have  interviewed  the  gentle- 
man who  claimed  to  be  none  other  than  M 

himself.     Yet,  who  was  M ? 

The  City  Desk  of  the  Herald  was  just  as 
anxious  as  any  of  the  others,  and  no  wonder 
three  staff  correspondents  and  a  space  reporter 
were  sent  to  find  out.  For  two  days  we 
searched  the  larger  hotels  and  apartments  in 

66 


PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES        67 

town,  for  another  we  telephoned  all  small 
apartments  listed  in  the  directory,  and  for  the 
rest  of  the  time  we  divided  the  city  in  quarters 
and  proceeded  to  make  systematic  search  of 
every  building  we  had  not  called  up. 

It  was  on  the  morning  of  the  fifth  day,  how- 
ever, while  still  engaged  in  the  occupation  of 
ringing  doorbells  that  I  presented  myself  be- 
fore an  elderly  man  at  a  Madison  Avenue 
address,  A  little  "hard  of  hearing,"  and  much 
in  need  of  tonsorial  treatment,  the  squire  was 
endeavoring  to  tell  me  that  he  had  heard 
the  name  before,  but  couldn't  recollect  just 
where. 

At  that  moment  a  tall,  young  woman,  Irish 
in  appearance,  stopped  to  ask  the  way  to  the 
nearest  post-office  and  she  was  about  to  pro- 
ceed when  my  elderly  friend  continued  talking. 

"M ,  I  knowed  I'd  herd  o'  h'lm." 

The  young  lady  retraced  her  steps  and  asked 
who  it  was  that  wished  to  see  M . 

I  told  her  I  had  a  business  proposition  to 
discuss  and  was  trying  to  find  his  whereabouts. 

She  asked  me  to  wait  a  few  minutes  until 
she  returned,  and  that  she  would  escort  me  to 
his  apartment.  When  she  had  left  the  old  man 
told  me  that  he  believed  she  must  be  a  maid,  as 


68        PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

she  always  brought  groceries  to  the  building 
next  door. 

A  half  hour  later  I  was  ascending  a  cork- 
screw staircase,  with  no  signs  of  ever  coming 
to  a  halt.  Ahead,  with  much  agility,  scrambled 
the  girl,  with  not  a  sign  of  exertion. 

At  the  top  of  the  building,  nine  floors  from 
the  street,  she  stopped  and  knocked  at  a  door 
in  the  rear.  I  was  still  panting  and  utterly 
exhausted. 

For  sometime  no  one  answered,  then  pre- 
ceded by  muttered  French  oaths  from  within, 
the  doorway  opened  and  the  woman  entered. 
Nothing  happened  and  I  began  to  think  I 
had  better  descend,  as  perhaps  I  had  been  led 
to  the  entrance  of  a  questionable  abode. 

And  then  I  heard  a  lot  of  French  words 
growing  suddenly  louder.  I  recognized  the 
conversation  as  being  that  of  a  very  angry 
man,  questioning  the  reason  for  bringing  a 
"tramp"  up  to  his  apartment.  The  oaths  and 
the  language  grew  so  loud  that  I  decided  it 
was  high  time  to  knock. 

As  soon  as  the  rapping  at  the  door  had 
ceased  a  voice  asked  me  what  I  wanted,  and  I 
replied  by  asking  whether  M.  Jaques  dwelt 
within.    The  door  opened  and  a  figure  attired 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  69 

in  shirt  sleeves,  over  which  a  painter's  smock 

had   been  thrown,   said  that   M and   he 

were  one  and  the  same.  I  could  scarcely  be- 
lieve it,  for  the  man  who  stood  before  me  bore 
every  resemblance  to  a  hearty  middle-west- 
erner. 

However,  without  giving  him  time  to  dis- 
cover my  dubiousness,  I  said  that  I  was  a 
newspaper  reporter  who  wanted  to  have  a 
short  interview  with  him,  and  learn  something 
about  the  reasons  for  his  exclusiveness. 

He  did  not  seem  to  relish  the  idea,  but  as 
footsteps  were  approaching  on  the  stairs  be- 
neath he  quietly  opened  the  door  and  bid  me 
enter.  He  then  disappeared  into  an  adjoining 
room,  while  I  took  a  seat  near  the  window, 
and  gazed  around  the  room.  It  was  a  taste- 
fully furnished  little  apartment,  with  all  sorts 
of  water  colors  adorning  the  walls. 

Pretty  soon  M entered,  dressed  in  city 

clothes,  and  seated  himself  near  me.  He  asked 
me  what  I  wanted  to  know,  for  he  had  not 
much  time  to  give  me,  owing  to  a  pressing  en- 
gagement downtown.  I  launched,  therefore, 
into  the  text  of  my  reason  for  visiting  him.  I 
told  him  of  our  efforts  to  find  him,  of  the  story 
in  the  western  papers,  and  lastly  my  own  reason 


70        PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

for  desiring  to  meet  him,  as  I  wished  to  know 
his  real  profession. 

"I  am  a  Jack  of  all  arts,"  he  replied,  laugh- 
ing for  the  first  time.  "There  is  nothing  I  do 
excessively  well,  yet  I  try  to  do  a  little  bit  of 
everything,  a  little  bit  well." 

I  told  him  it  was  a  noble  asset,  but  that  I 
should  like  to  know  what  he  liked  best  to 
do,  even  though  he  could  not  do  it  as  well  as 
he  should  really  like  to. 

Again  he  laughed,  and  replied: 

"That  western  paper  was  right.  I  like  best 
of  all  to  go  on  my  honeymoon  to  the  Yosem- 
ite.  I  can  think  of  nothing  finer,  nothing 
more  majestic,  nothing  more  superb.  Yet  one 
can't  always  go  on  a  honeymoon,  nor  can  one 
always  go  to  the  Yosemite. 

"Next  to  that,  I  believe  I  like  painting  best 
of  all.  I  like  to  paint  as  I  think,  not  as  my 
eyes  see.  I  like  to  feel  the  brush  majestically 
scaling  the  walls,  building  the  castles,  laying 
the  foundations,  cutting  the  roots  and  swaying 
the  pedestals  of  the  earth's  very  incarnation. 
I  like  to  paint  as  a  master,  as  a  creator,  not  as 
a  student — for  my  good  friend,  I  have  never 
taken  a  lesson  in  painting  in  my  life." 

We  were  brusquely  interrupted  by  a  rapping 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  71 

at  the  door.     M got  up  and  asked  what 

the  intruder  wanted.  From  outside  the  door 
came  a  plea  that  this  was  the  day  on  which  the 
washing  had  to  go  out.  Anger  spread  itself 
over  the  quiet  vision  of  the  painter,  as  he 
shouted  (in  French)   next  door: 

"Give  that  d woman  the  wash  and  tell 

her  to  get  out." 

Then  he  turned  toward  me  again  and  said 
that  people  annoyed  him  so  that  he  did  not 
believe  he  would  be  able  to  stand  New  York 
much  longer.  This  gave  me  the  opportunity 
to  ask  him  how  long  he  had  been  there  and  he 
replied  that  it  was  well  over  six  weeks. 

For  a  few  moments  he  remained  silent,  and 
as  he  was  about  to  continue  another  knock 
came  at  the  door.  Some  one  had  come  to  re- 
pair the  piano.     In  a  perfect  rage  M let 

loose  some  rather  sulphuric  oaths  again  in 
French. 

"I  must  not  take  up  your  time,  my  good 
man,"  said  he,  turning  toward  me  again,  and 
smiling  almost — pleasantly.  "Nor  must  you 
take  up  mine;  yet  you  will  want  something  to 
say  about  me,  and  I  shall  tell  it  to  you  as 
quickly  as  possible. 


72        PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

"I  have  come  to  New  York  as  all  others  do, 
to  see  and  learn." 

We  were  again  interrupted,  this  time  by  the 
young  lady  who  had  shown  me  up  the  stairs. 

M was  well-nigh  beside  himself,  and  in 

undertones  (in  French)  swore  with  great  facil- 
ity. The  lady  seated  herself  beside  him  on  a 
divan,  and  turning  to  me  asked  me  to  forgive 
her  husband  for  being  so  rude. 

I  feigned  ignorance,  and  yet  I  kept  my  ears 
wide  open.  The  idiosyncrasies  of  all  those 
with  whom  a  reporter  comes  in  contact,  are 
amusing. 

"I  shall  continue,"  resumed  M .    "I  was 

telling  this  reporter,  dear,  that  I  had  come  to 
New  York,  as  all  others  do,  to  see  and  learn. 

"Yes,  Europe  has  much  to  learn  from  the 
new  art  which  America  must  some  day  create. 
A  new  psychological  moment  has  come  to 
America.  It  is  up  to  her  to  seize  the  oppor- 
tunity before  one  of  the  countries  of  the  old 
world  endeavors  to  do  so. 

"America  is  the  most  technologically  impor- 
tant country  on  the  face  of  the  earth  to-day. 
The  rest  of  the  world  has  to  depend  greatly  on 
what  you  manufacture  and  on  your  methods  of 
encouraging  life.     It  is  therefore  up  to  you  to 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  73 

live  up  to  that  reputation  and  try  to  create 
something  really  new  in  the  line  of  art  as  well 
as  in  the  line  of  technology." 

It  was  a  clever  little  say-so,  and  yet  from 
what  I  had  already  heard  in  undertones  I  did 
not  dare  to  believe  a  word  of  it. 

M then  told  me  that  the  lady  on  his  left 

was  his  wife.  He  spoke  of  her  endearingly, 
and  said  that  there  could  be  no  sounder  al- 
liance than  Irish  and  Basque.  He  explained 
that  he  was  a  Basque. 

"Basque  is  the  greatest  country  in  civiliza- 
tion. We  are  a  race  all  of  our  own,  and  are 
of  the  highest  mental  development.  For  ex- 
ample, America  was  discovered  by  Basques 
two  hundred  years  before  Columbus.  The  only 
real  discovery  belonging  to  Columbus  was  the 
way  to  make  an  egg  stand  on  its  end. 

"Noah  spoke  Basque;  and  Sanscrit  and  Ja- 
panese are  but  patois  derived  from  the  Basque 
language.  In  fact,  in  order  to  make  a  people 
as  important  as  the  Basques,  French,  Henry 
the  F'ourth,  King  of  France,  was  obliged  to 
ennoble  all  the  Basques.  I  am  therefore  born 
in  France,  since  the  Basque  country  belongs  to 
the  French,  yet  all  the  countries  of  the  world 


74        PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

are  only  colonies  of  the  Basque,  in  the  figures 
of  art." 

The  last  few  phrases  made  the  decided  im- 
pression upon  my  mind  that  besides  being 
Basque,  Jaques  was  decidedly  eccentric.  Per- 
haps he  knew  it  and  was  putting  it  all  on,  and 
I  heartily  wished  that  he  would  launch  forth 
again  in  the  French  undertones,  which  showed 
me  exactly  what  he  thought. 

Before  speaking  again  he  took  his  horn- 
rimmed glasses  and  carefully  wiped  them. 
He  seemed  to  be  deeply  engrossed  in  thinking 
what  else  he  could  tell  me,  and  I  was  quite 
aware  that  the  previous  bluff  of  his  important 
engagement  had  been  forgotten. 

His  wife  was  the  next  to  break  the  silence. 

She  told  me  that  M had  come  to  America 

almost  a  year  before,  and  had  gone  west  im- 
mediately. He  settled  in  the  artists'  colony  at 
Carmel,  on  Monterey  Bay,  and  sketched  a  great 
deal  of  that  coast.  Here  she  had  met  him, 
and  after  a  brief  flirtation  they  had  been  mar- 
ried and  by  means  of  a  brand  new  car  had  gone 
to  the  Yosemite  Valley,  where  he  had  done  a 
lot  of  painting. 

Before  his  arrival  in  America,  she  continued, 
he  had  been  one   of  the   greatest  cartoonists 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  75 

in  Europe,  and  many  of  his  sketches  had  been 
used  as  recruiting  bulletins.  In  his  younger 
days  he  had  been  a  master  printer  on  the  Paris 
Temps,  of  which  his  father  was  one  of  the 
editors.  After  two  years  of  this  work  he  took 
a  course  in  architecture  in  the  Beaux  Arts.  He 
was  the  youngest  architect  at  the  Paris  Ex- 
position in  1900,  and  the  Prince  of  Wales, 
afterwards  Edward  VII,  had  congratulated 
him  in  person.  Whilst  studying  architecture, 
she  continued,  he  had  commenced  his  collab- 
oration with  various  French  humorist  publi- 
cations. From  1904  to  19 10  he  published 
Le  Temoin,  a  French  daily  paper. 

Impressionism  in  painting  and  "art-nouveau" 
in  jewelry  and  decorations  were  against  his 
principles.  His  last  few  years  he  had  devoted 
especially  to  fashion  and  above  all,  decorative 
arts.  She  said  that  in  this  connection  he  ad- 
mired very  much  the  difference  between  classic 
furniture  and  that  meeting  the  modern  require- 
ments. Her  only  reproach  against  his  methods 
was  that  he  confined  himself  entirely  too  much 
to  luxury. 

She  had  scarcely  uttered  these  words  before 
he  became  immensely  angry  and  (in  French) 
told  her  to  leave  the  room  and  not  to  come 


76        PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

back  until  she  could  behave  herself.  She  in 
turn  became  indignant,  and  fearing  lest  I 
should  be  the  center  of  a  family  row,  I  arose 

to  go,  but  M would  not  have  it,  and  in 

thunderous  tones  told  me  to  sit  down  and  not 
to  annoy  him  any  more. 

I  was  indeed  frightened,  so  I  remained  as 
quiet  as  possible,   scarcely  daring  to  breathe, 

until   the   family   affairs   of  the    M s   had 

been  straightened. 

After  a  short  while  he  returned,  but  before 
he  entered  the  room  I  heard  him  telling  her 
that  if  the  blankety-blank  reporter  next  door 
had  not  come  when  he  did  all  would  have  been 
well,  and  that  he  felt  like  choking  any  one 
who  had  interrupted  his  morning's  work  in  such 
a  miserable  fashion. 

"I  have  a  greater  lesson  to  learn  from  the 
skyscrapers,  from  Broadway  illuminated  at 
night,  from  the  tumult  of  the  lower  East  Side, 
than  from  the  Place  Vendome  or  Trafalgar 
Square,"  said  he,  reseating  himself  on  the  divan 
and  gazing  off  into  the  distance. 

"The  new  form  of  art  for  which  we  are  all, 
breathlessly  waiting  will  come  from  here,  from 
your  marvelous  America.  Your  beautiful  de- 
sire to  be  the  first  in  everything,  from  your 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  77 

taste  in  luxury  to  the  beauty  of  your  women, 
is  a  marvel  to  us  of  the  old  world. 

"The  skyscrapers  are  a  creation  all  your 
own.  The  landscape  of  Broadway  at  night  is 
the  most  original  thing  I  know  of.  I  am  not 
making  fun.  I  don't  mean  literally  that  I  like 
the  little  dancing  mannikins  that  advertise 
chewing  gum,  or  the  shapeless  leg  of  the  lady 
who  shows  her  hose,  yet  it's  the  ensemble  to 
which  I  refer.  I  am  able  to  admire  America 
more  than  most  people  because  I  am  a  for- 
eigner and  can  tell  you  her  triumphs  and  her 
faults. 

"I  think,  however,  to  be  perfectly  frank  with, 
you,  your  worst  enemies  are  those  who  are  born 
in  America  and  never  learn  good  taste.  You 
have  created  everything  but  taste.  You  use 
your  modern  ideas  with  old  world  taste  and 
they  do  not  fit.  Taste  is  the  disease  of  old 
people.  It  comes  from  the  top,  not  the 
bottom.  Such  a  new  and  wonderful  nation 
paralyzes  taste.  My  definition  for  your  new 
taste  is,  that  when  you  are  old  and  feeble, 
and  have  used  up  all  the  ideas  you  have  accu- 
mulated in  younger  days,  then  it  will  be  time 
to  rearrange  new  ideas  to  suit  yourself.     You 


78        PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

will  come  to  that  sometime,  and  I  hope  it  will 
be  soon. 

M arose  and  opened  the  door. 

"I  think  you  know  a  lot  about  me  that  I  do 
not  even  know  myself,"  he  said,  "but  I  must 
ask  you  to  go  now,  as  I  must  prepare  for 
supper  and  for  bed.  I  always  retire  early, 
for  you  see,  young  man,  I  am  a  quiet,  peace- 
loving  individual." 

I  went  out  of  the  door,  which  he  quickly 
closed,  and  I  heard  a  very  loud  conversation 
(again  in  French)  behind  me. 

"We  have  made  ourselves  famous,"  it  was 
saying,  "and  all  that  remains  for  us  to  do  is  to 
wait  until  the  orders  commence  to  pour  in. 
That  young  reporter  will  say  we  are  two  of  the 
most  interesting  people  in  the  city,  and  we  shall 
have  to  live  up  to  it." 

The  next  morning  when  my  story  appeared 
on  the  street,  I  had  carefully  camouflaged 
within  its  text  the  real  interview,  with  the  silent 
voice  of  France  as  my  leading  statement. 
However,  I  did  not  mention  the  street  address 
nor  the  peace-loving  conversation  which  ensued 
behind  my  back. 

Two  days  later   M sent  me   a   signed 

photo,    as    well    as    a   long   letter    in   French^ 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  79 

apologizing  for  his  conversation,  and  all  that 
I  had  heard  the  afternoon  that  I  interviewed 
him,  and  asking  me  to  think  of  him  only  as  a 
plain  husband,  such  as  millions  of  others  in 
all  parts  of  the  world. 


CHAPTER  VII 

THE  BRIBE 

The  Earl  of  E ,  one  of  the  most  pic- 
turesque figures  of  the  House  of  Lords,  came 
to  America  early  in  1920  to  seek  American 
physicians  and  be  cured  from  an  affliction  from 
which  he  had  long  been  a  sufferer.  He  was 
here  but  a  short  time  before  he  discovered 
that  his  surmises  were  correct,  and  that 
American  doctors  were  the  best  in  the 
world. 

When  the  Earl  arrived  in  New  York,  the 

King  of  the   Belgians  was  there,   and  so  the 

notice  which  foreigners  usually  gain  from  our 

press  was  not  forthcoming.     It  was  therefore 

not  surprising  that  the  publicity  agent  of  one 

of  our  largest  hotels  called  the  City  Editor's 

attention   to   the   fact   that   one   of   Ireland's 

foremost  noblemen  was  staying  at  the  hotel, 

and  the  City  Desk,  not  knowing  much  about 

E ,  sent  the  author  to  learn  what  he  had 

to  say. 

80 


PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES        8i 

A  few  minutes  later  I  was  talking  to  a  physi- 
cian  who   told   me   that   the   Earl   of   E 


was  not  such  a  sick  man  as  he  believ^ed  himself 
to  be.  Our  conversation  was  interrupted  by 
the  entry  of  an  elderly  gentleman  attired  in 
smoking  jacket  and  bathgown.  He  paid  no 
attention  whatever  to  us,  but  motioned  to  the 
nurse  who  was  following  him,  instructing  her 
to  place  a  rocking  chair  by  the  window,  in 
which  he  comfortably  arranged  himself,  and 
then  was  covered  with  a  large  rug,  which  he 
directed  the  nurse  to  tuck  around  him. 

While  all  this  was  going  on  I  had  a  good 
chance  to  study  him,  and  to  form  in  my  own 
mind  my  opinion  as  to  his  character.  From 
outward  appearances  he  was  quite  old,  with 
deep-set  wrinkles  all  over  his  forehead.  Closer 
inspection  revealed  that  he  was  very  fidgety 
and  probably  quite  temperamental.  Noth- 
ing seemed  to  please  him  unless  he  could 
have  the  satisfaction  of  knowing  that  he  had 
said  or  done  it  himself.  Years  of  thinking 
and  meditation  had  left  their  scars,   and  the 

Earl   of   E as   I    saw   him    that   January 

morning  was  not  the  type  of  man  that  Belcharz 
had  so  cleverly  described  about  three  years  be- 
fore. 


82        PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

"Well,  have  you  brought  your  assistant?"  he 
remarked  all  of  a  sudden,  addressing  the  doc- 
tor at  my  side. 

"No,  sir,  this  is  a  reporter  from  a  New 
York  City  newspaper,"  replied  the  doctor, 
evidently  much  embarrassed. 

"And  what  the  devil  does  he  want  with  me?" 
said  the  Earl,  feigning  great  astonishment. 
"Am  I  of  enough  importance  for  the  American 
press  to  realize  that  I  have  been  here  the  past 
ten  days?" 

I  replied  that  I  believed  he  was,  and  that  I 
had  come  to  ask  him  a  few  questions  concern- 
ing the  reason  of  his  visit  to  this  country  and 
what  he  intended  to  do. 

My  friend  the  doctor  softly  withdrew,  while 
the  Earl  scornfully  looked  me  "inside  out." 
At  last  he  replied: 

"I  don't  mind  your  first  two  questions,  but 
I  do  object  strongly  to  the  last  one.  What  I 
am  going  to  do  is  my  own  business,  and  no 
reporter  can  dare  question  my  personal  doings. 
If  he  does,  then  I  don't  want  to  speak  to  him. 
Do  you?    Answer  quick  or  get  out." 

I  replied  that  I  was  sorry  I  had  vexed  him 
by  my  question,  and  I  hoped  he  wouldn't  take 
to  heart  the  literal  meaning  of  it.     I  said, 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  83 

however,  that  I  hoped  he  would  tell  me  some- 
thing so  that  I  would  not  be  obliged  to  go  back 
to  my  editor  empty  handed. 

He  seemed  to  realize  then  that  I  was  with 
him  at  his  bidding  and  not  so  much  seeking  to 
meet  him  for  my  own  good,  and  finally  he  told 
me  to  draw  up  a  chair.  I  did  so,  and  came 
within  a  few  feet  of  his  rocker,  in  such  a  posi- 
tion that  I  could  distinctly  see  every  line  in 
his  face.  For  some  minutes  he  said  not  a 
word,  nor  did  he  move  a  muscle.  Then  he 
glanced  slowly  out  of  the  window,  toward 
Central  Park  and  northern  Manhattan.  Sev- 
eral children  were  playing  on  the  grass  nearby 
the  lake,  and  occasionally  a  burly-looking 
policeman  passed  casually  by,  swinging  his 
night  stick. 

"And  so  you  want  to  know  why  I  came  to 
America?"  I  realized  he  was  speaking  to  me. 
"Well,  young  man,  that's  not  hard  for  me  to 


answer." 


Again  a  silence,  while  I  nervously  fingered 
my  pencil.  Was  he  never  going  to  tell  me? 
Time  was  precious,  and  especially  at  that  hour 
of  the  day.  When  I  looked  up  again  he  was 
drawing  out  a  small  thin  cigarette  case.  I 
watched  diligently.      Carefully  opening  it   he 


84        PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

withdrew  one  cigarette  and  proceeded  to  thump 
it  up  and  down  in  his  hand.  I  found  a  match, 
struck  it,  and  gave  him  a  light.  He  must  have 
noticed  that  I  was  not  smoking,  so  he  made  a 
move  as  though  to  offer  me  one,  too,  but 
thought  better  of  it  and  continued  to  speak. 

"I  have  been  ill  for  the  last  three  years  with 
my  heart  and  my  lungs;  so  ill,  young  man,  that 
sometimes  it  is  hard  to  realize  that  I  am  still 
alive.  Sometimes  I  feel  as  though  I  were  a 
disembodied  spirit,  my  mind  leaves  me  and  my 
thoughts  are  far  from  where  my  body  remains. 
It  isn't  human,  and  yet  here  I  am  alive,  in 
America;  yes,  in  America." 

Another  dramatic  pause.  Although  I  real- 
ized he  must  be  a  very  sick  man  and  that  the 
doctor's  words  had  not  been  just,  I  was  be- 
ginning to  fear  I  was  to  interview  a  second  Sir 
Oliver  Lodge,  and  the  recollection  of  such  an 
event  was  not  wholly  pleasant. 

"I  consulted  almost  every  physician  in  Great 
Britain  and  Ireland,  but  none  of  them  could 
cure  me.  Some  told  me  I  had  but  a  few  months 
to  live,  while  others  told  me  my  malady  was 
more  in  thought  than  in  reality.  And  every 
day  I  felt  myself  sinking  further  and  further 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  85 

away  from  all  that  was  real  and  majestic  in 
life." 

The  cigarette  had  burned  low  and  another 
had  taken  its  place.  I  again  offered  a  match 
and  it  was  again  accepted.  And  then  it  hap- 
pened: 

"By  the  way,  young  man,  do  you  smoke?" 
he  asked  most  condescendingly. 

I  said  that  I  did  occasionally. 

The  nurse  re-entered  with  a  medicine  of 
some  sort  or  other,  and  the  Earl  told  her  to  get 
some  cigarettes.  She  returned  with  a  package 
containing  a  cheap  British  cigarette.  These  he 
offered  me,  and  I  took  and  lighted  one  of  them. 
Then  he  continued: 

"I  went  to  the  continent,  but  no  one  could 
cure  me.  It  was  the  same  story  over  and  over 
again.  I  could  not  go  to  Central  Europe,  for 
the  conditions  were  too  uncertain.  Finally  my 
cousin  persisted  that  I  should  try  America.  As 
a  last  hope,  I  came  to  your  country." 

Another  pause,  a  glance  out  of  the  window, 
and  another  smoke  from  the  silver  case.  What 
kind  of  weeds  were  they  in  that  magic 
case,  I  wondered  to  myself.  Perhaps  it  was 
some  kind  of  medicine?  It  might  even  have 
been  a  comforting  drug!     Yet  the  stubs  were 


86        PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

the  same  as  any  others  I  had  seen  and  mystery 
continued  to  shroud  their  identity. 

Another  cigarette  of  the  inexpensive  brand 
was  offered  to  me,  and  with  a  brief  gesture  of 
amazement  when  I  refused  to  accept,  the  Earl 
continued  in  slow,  monotonous  tones : 

"I  arrived  in  America  ten  days  ago.  My 
son-in-law  and  his  family  physician  met  me. 
They  brought  me  here,  and  every  day  I  have 
been  seeing  a  new  specialist.  I  have  only  been 
here  ten  days,  as  I  told  you,  and  yet  I  feel  that 
American  physicians  and  their  treatment  for 
invalids  are  one  hundred  per  cent  better  than 
the  methods  of  all  the  foreign  physicians  put 
together." 

This  was  evidently  a  very  great  compliment 
for  a  foreigner  of  such  importance  to  make, 
and  I  underlined  it,  in  order  to  know  when  I 
re-read  my  notes  its  whereabouts  in  the  text  of 
the  Interview.  He  noticed  this  and  became 
Intensely  Interested,  asking  me  with  much 
eagerness  why  I  "made  those  pencil  marks" 
underneath  his  last  phrase. 

After  I  had  explained  the  reason  he  became 
very  serious.  It  was  evident  that  in  order  to 
say  exactly  what  he  meant  he  was  obliged  to 
formulate  his  words  first  In  his  mind  and  then 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  87 

broach  them  to  me  afterwards,  for  finally,  with 
another  effort,  he  asked  me  If  I  wished  to  per- 
form a  service  which  would  do  him  no  end  of 
good.  I  replied  that  anything  I  could  do  in 
my  meager  way  to  help  him  I  should  be  only 
too  pleased  to  do. 

At  this  little  phrase,  the  silver  cigarette  case 
was  forced  into  my  hands  and  I  drew  from  it  a 
neatly  rolled  aristocrat,  which  I  proceeded  to 
smoke  with  delight.  The  Earl  smiled  sadly 
and  replaced  the  case  in  his  pocket,  and  then 
rontinued: 

"I  am  giving  you  this  'fag'  in  hopes  that  you 
will  quote  me  fairly  and  correctly  in  every- 
thing you  may  say  concerning  me.  Long  have 
I  been  the  subject  of  foolish  tirades  from  the 
newspapers.  Long  has  my  life  been  turned 
'inside  out'  by  the  elaborating  pen  of  the  press. 
Many  times  have  I  tried  to  secure  just  rewards 
for  such  mis-quotations,  in  the  courts  of  my 
country  and  the  continent.  Yet  seldom  have  I 
been  able  to  gain  my  ends  or  the  justice  which 
I  felt  I  deserved.  The  power  of  the  profession 
which  you  represent  is  so  enormous  that  Kings 
and  Emperors,  Czars  and  even  Presidents, 
quake  before  its  everlasting  phrases  and  the 
manner  in  which  it  relates  episodes  to  enliven 


88        PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

the  people.  I  am  not  scared  of  the  press  by 
any  means,  yet  I  do  not  approve  of  the  methods 
used  by  many  of  Its  advocates  in  securing  their 
ends.  Therefore,  young  man,  if  you  will 
further  promise  to  quote  me  correctly  every 
time  I  see  you,  and  every  time  I  tell  you  any- 
thing of  importance,  I  will  be  even  more 
gracious  to  you  than  I  have  been  now,  for  I 
will  give  you  an  entire  box  of  expensive  ciga- 
rettes for  your  own/'' 

He  was  evidently  much  elated  over  this  great 
"bribe,"  and  I  was  equally  elated  to  see 
whether  he  would  make  true  his  promise.  Who 
would  refuse  a  box  of  high-grade  cigarettes 
from  the  Earl  of  E ? 

"As  to  your  second  question,  concerning  my 
whereabouts,  let  me  say  that  I  have  been  ad- 
vised by  your  good  American  doctors  to  try 
the  climate  of  Cuba  or  Bermuda  for  the  winter. 
In  view  of  what  you  term  the  Eighteenth 
Amendment,  I  might  say  that  I  shall  be  glad 
to  get  into  that  very  good  region." 

For  the  first  time  in  our  entire  conversation, 
the  Earl  laughed  dryly  as  though  he  had  con- 
cluded a  very  amusing  remark,  and  went  on: 

"The  freedom  of  this  country  is  as  deplor- 
able as  that  of  Ireland.    You  cannot  drink,  you 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  89 

cannot  sing,  soon  you  will  not  be  able  to  smoke. 
Yet  you  call  yourselves  a  great  democracy.  I 
believe  it  is  a  great  hypocrisy." 

Here  he  gurgled  another  polite  laugh. 

"In  my  younger  days  I  was  something  of  a 
comedian;  that  is,  I  was  regarded  as  a  clever 
amateur  actor.  I  could  imitate  any  one  who 
had  appeared  prominently  on  the  British  stage 
for  the  preceding  quarter  of  a  century,  I  was  in 
great  demand  at  private  theatricals,  and  my 
name  was  frequently  mentioned  in  the  current 
press.  And  then  the  greater  affairs  of  life  came 
on,  and  I  left  the  carefree  existence  of  the 
amateur  stage  and  entered  the  drudgery  of  the 
Army,  and  later  of  the  political  world.  Yet, 
I  haven't  forgotten  those  early  days,  nor  the 
times  when  I  shone  as  the  Beau  Brummel  of 
all  the  circles  in  which  I  moved." 

To  the  layman  these  confessions  may  seem 
rather  an  exaggeration.  To  the  newspaper- 
man they  are  but  another  notch  in  the  stick 
of  experience.  Journalists  are  accustomed  to 
hear  all  about  other  people;  like  lawyers  and 
doctors,  they  learn  probably  more  scandals 
and  yet  more  deep  truths  than  any  other  chosen 
profession,   therefore  it  was  not  new  to  hear 


90        PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

the  Earl  tell  all  that  he  believed,  imagined,  or 
could  conjure  as  having  happened  to  him  in 
his  earlier  days. 

"Life  as  a  Lieutentant  in  the  Fourth  Bat- 
talion Rifle  Brigade,  in  the  early  eighties,  was 
not  without  its  divertisements.  Sometimes  we 
held  'smokers',  at  which  my  art  was  again  mani- 
fest, and  sometimes  we  gave  entertainments  to 
the  fairer  sex,  at  which  I  was  always  asked  to 
lend  my  talents.  Although  my  jokes  were  rusty 
and  my  verbs  too  concocted,  I  could  assuredly 
add  mirth  and  laughter  to  the  party. 

"And  besides  that,  I  am  quite  a  shoemaker. 
When  in  Parliament,  I  was  the  only  peer  who 
could  claim  the  distinction  of  amateur  cob- 
bler. It  is  one  of  the  things  of  which  I  am 
justly  proud.  Upon  a  glance  I  can  tell  you 
whether  your  shoe  was  hand  or  factory 
made.  I  can,  upon  closer  inspection,  soon 
advise  you  in  what  country  it  was  made,  from 
where  the  leather  is  derived,  and  the  approxi- 
mate price  the  shoe  should  have  cost  you." 

Abruptly  as  it  had  begun,  our  interview 
ended,  for  the  hall  door  opened  with  a  great 
gusto,  and  in  came  two  pompous-looking  gentle- 
Ttnen,  whom  I  judged  at  once  to  be  a  new  group 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  91 

of  physicians.  There  was  much  rubbing  of 
hands  and  stroking  of  beards,  and  modu- 
lated conversation.  The  nurse  and  my  friend, 
the  former  doctor,  came  in,  and  brushing  me 
aside,  began  re-arranging  the  patient. 

I  felt  extremely  sorry  for  the  old  gentleman 
as  I  arose  to  go.  It  occurred  to  me  that  prob- 
ably his  entire  life  was  spent  in  this  way,  be- 
spattered with  the  thought  that  at  occasional 
moments  he  could  tell  some  well-wishing 
youngster  the  troubles  and  joys  of  his  existence, 
and  yet  what  an  existence  it  was! 

As  I  was  quietly  going  out  of  the  door,  the 

Earl  of  E called  me  back.     The  doctors 

looked  quizzically  at  the  old  man  and  then  at 
me,  and  stood  aside  as  the  Earl  whispered  in 
my  ear: 

"Remember,  laddie,  I'll  give  you  something 
which  you  reporter  chaps  don't  often  get  the 
money  to  buy,  that  is,  if  you  quote  me 
correctly." 

When  I  returned  to  the  newspaper  office, 
the  editor  asked  me  how  much  material  I  could 
give  him,  and  I  replied  I  had  enough  to  make 
up  a  third  of  a  column.  He  said  that  he 
thought  from  the  time  I  had  been  away  I  ought 


92        PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

to  have  more  material  than  that.  However,  I 
realized  that  the  only  story  I  could  use  was  that 
which  concerned  the  difference  between  Ameri- 
can and  European  physicians,  so  I  reiterated  to 
the  editor  that  I  was  sorry,  but  could  only  give 
him  a  third  of  a  column.  Then  I  went  into 
the  morgue  (as  a  newspaper  reference  room 
is  termed)   to  hunt  up  E 's  past. 

It  was  indeed  interesting,  for  his  eccentrici- 
ties were  marked  by  many  writers  besides  my- 
self, and  his  hobby  of  shoemaking,  as  well  as 
his  credulous  idea  of  amateur  acting,  was 
voiced  by  many  far  more  talented  authors  than 
the  one  who  is  recording  these  notes,  yet  in  all 
I  never  could  find  another  writer  who  claimed 
to  have  accepted  a  gratuity  in  the  form  of 
cigarettes. 

I  learned  many  interesting  facts  concerning 
the  Earl's  second  wife,  however,  and  chief 
among  these  was  the  admiration  which  Prince 
Henry  of  Prussia  had  for  her  before  the  com- 
mencement of  hostilities.  One  account  related 
an  amusing  incident  which  occurred  in  19 13. 
The  Countess  was  aboard  the  Hohenzollern, 
the  Emperor  of  Germany's  yacht,  at  the  Cowes 
regatta,  in  southern  England,  attending  a  for- 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  93 

mal  luncheon  party.  Prince  Henry,  whom  I 
have  already  said  was  very  attentive  to  the 
Earl  of  E — — 's  wife,  Is  reported  to  have  been 
rebuked  in  his  criticism  of  English  girls.  He 
wanted  to  show  his  superiority  over  the  British 
race  and  he  did  not  like  the  rebuke,  so  he 
laughingly  made  the  Countess  angry,  by  telling 
her: 

"You  are,  my  dear,  a  very  attractive  woman, 
but  you  live  in  an  ugly  and  ill-kept  country. 
Your  race  is  idle  and  delinquent,  and  of  course 
your  maidens  cannot  be  beautiful.  It  will  take 
our  race  of  the  brave,  studious  Fatherland  to 
teach  your  race  to  brush  itself  up." 

The  following  morning,  armed  with  a 
clipping  of  my  story  concerning  the  Earl,  I 
presented  myself  at  his  apartment  in  the  hotel. 

Although  the  hour  was  yet  early,  E had 

gone  out  for  his  air,  and,  his  valet  informed 
me,  had  left  instructions  that  he  did  not  wish 
to  be  bothered.  He  added,  however,  that  if  I 
was  the  "reporter"  who  had  interviewed  his 
master  the  day  previous,  he  would  give  me  that 
which  his  master  had  left  for  me. 

A  few  moments  afterwards  I  seated  myself 
In  a  quiet  corner  of  the  lobby  and  opened  a 


94        PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

neatly  arranged  package.  A  small  box  of  Eng- 
lish cigarettes  tumbled  out.  Opening  the  box  I 
found  nine  "fags" — the  tenth  was  evidently  the 
one  I  had  smoked  the  day  before  from  the 
mysterious  silver  case. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

THE  RECEPTION  ON  THE  SOUND 

"Reporters  Keep  Out,"  said  the  gateman 
at  the  entrance  of  Peacock  Point,  the  summer 
residence  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  H.  P.  Davison,  on 
the  North  Shore  of  Long  Island. 

An  angry  group  of  newspapermen  listened 
to  the  harsh  but  commanding  words.  Could  it 
be  possible  that  Kenry  P.  Davison,  head  of  the 
Red  Cross,  had  ordered  this,  or  had  it  been 
decreed  by  some  misguided  attendant  who  did 
not  wish  to  be  bothered  by  the  anxious  news- 
gatherers?  These  and  many  other  questions 
were  upon  the  lips  of  those  who  had  been  sent 
many  miles  from  New  York  on  this  glorious 
Sunday  morning,  to  get  the  news  of  the  Red 
Cross  Tea  Party. 

After  some  time  spent  in  arguing  with  the 
gate-keeper  and  inspecting  all  points  of  the 
massive  wall  which  surrounded  the  grounds, 
we  decided  to  telephone  the  main  house  and 
ask  by  wliose  authority  we  were  to  be  excluded. 

95 


96        PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

Q M ,  one  of  the  most  descriptive 

of  the  young  reporters,  and  to-day  probably 
the  most  brilliant  dramatic  critic  in  metro- 
politan journalism,  was  elected  to  reach  Mr. 
Davidson  by  telephone  and  ask  him  how  we 
could  secure  our  material  for  the  morning  edi- 
tions of  the  city  papers. 

There  was  a  gardener's  lodge  near  the  gate 

and  into  this  M hied  himself,  while  the 

rest  of  us  remained  outside  trying  to  get  a 
glimpse  of  what  was  happening  within. 

Besides  the  reporters  there  were  several  hun- 
dred villagers  and  persons  termed  "excite- 
ment fans,"  whom  one  meets  at  all  kinds  of 
amusements  from  weddings  to  fires,  clustered 
around  the  gates.  Several  village  policemen  as 
well  as  a  squad  of  State  Constabulary  formed 
the  guard  which  kept  all  inquisitive  persons 
at  proper  distance  from  the  entrance.  Many 
school  children  carrying  Belgian  and  American 
flags  much  larger  than  themselves  mingled 
among  the  crowd. 

As  the  hour  of  five  approached,  the  tense- 
ness of  those  In  the  crowd  grew  more  and 
more  pronounced;  while  the  reporters  anxiously 

awaited    the    return    of    young    M ,    half 

fearing  to  dread  his  reply.     All  of  a  sudden 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  97 

down  the  lane  from  tne  direction  of  the  main 
highway  came  the  loud  reverberation  of  a 
klaxon,  and  amid  a  cloud  of  sand  and  dust  a 
large  army  car  approached.  The  police  lines 
were  drawn  tighter  and  the  Constabulary  pre- 
pared to  salute. 

Inside  the  car,  the  clean-cut  features  of  a 
well-known  gentleman,  dressed  in  a  frock-coat 
and  top  hat,  were  noticeable.  Two  young  men 
in  full  military  regalia  were  seated  beside  him. 
For  a  moment  we  were  all  guessing  who  it 
might  be  and  then  some  school  boys  burst 
forth : 

"Gee,  it's  Black  Jack,  wearing  a  stove- 
pipe." 

And  General  Pershing  laughed  good-na- 
turedly and  waved  his  hand  at  them. 

The  car  stopped  at  the  gateway  while  the 
General  had  his  passes  examined  and  then 
proceeded  slowly  up  the  driveway.  On  the 
right-hand  running  board,  quite  unnoticed  ex- 
cept to  a  few  of  the  more  observant,  there 
crouched  a  reporter,  quick  enough  to  grasp  his 
only  chance  of  entry  into  the  carefully  guarded 
grounds. 

For  the  next  half-hour  car  after  car  drew  up 
at  the  gateway,  produced  its  pass  and  slowly 


98        PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

entered  the  grounds  of  Peacock  Point.  Gayly 
gowned  ladles  with  young  and  demure  daugh- 
ters, handsomely  clothed  men  and  much  be- 
decorated  officials,  passed  down  the  lane,  while 
tired,  weary  newspapermen  resigned  to  the 
fate  of  copying  down  the  names  of  those 
who  bore  that  important  pass,  remained  out- 
side. 

Q M  '  ,  after  many  endeavors,  re- 
turned with  the  information  that  the  nearest 
person  to  the  owner  of  the  residence  with 
whom  he  could  get  in  contact,  was  a  very  dis- 
tant secretary,  who  had  been  too  scared  to  say 
anything  except  that  he  couldn't  talk  with  the 
press. 

But  we  were  not  to  be  turned  down  without 

one    last   valiant    effort.      F B ,    of 

the  New  York  World,  the  best  known  "sleuth" 
of  the  "jolly  roysters,"  had  conceived  a  plan. 
He  had  come  to  Peacock  Point  in  his  speedster, 
parked  within  a  quarter  of  a  mile  of  the  gate- 
way so  that  he  was  quite  certain  the  police  force 
had  not  seen  it. 

Ten  minutes  later  he  entered  his  machine, 
covered  his  head  with  an  army  skull  cap  such  as 
aviators  and  motorcyclists  use  in  racing,  and 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  99 

placed  beside  him,  and  in  the  bottom  of  his  car 
at  full  length,  a  few  of  his  compatriots. 

Just  as  we  were  ready  to  make  a  dash  for 
it,  a  lot  of  horns  commenced  blowing  from 
the  direction  of  the  mainroad,  and  four  cars 
dashed  by  our  hiding  place.  In  less  time  than 
it  takes  to  write  this  we  had  joined  ourselves 
to  the  little  group  of  vehicles. 

The  first  contained  the  Queen  of  the 
Belgians,  the  little  Prince,  Countess  Gaislaine 
de  Caraman-Chimay,  the  lady-in-waiting  to 
the  Queen,  and  Mrs.  August  Belmont,  who  was 
a  member  of  Mayor  Hylan's  Committee  of 
Welcome,  assigned  to  follow  the  Queen 
wherever  she  went.  The  other  cars  were  filled 
with  members  of  the  staff  accompanying  the 
royal  foreigners  and  secret  service  men.  We 
formed  the  rear. 

As  the  Queen's  car  entered  the  gateway,  all 
the  school  children  set  up  a  loud  cheer,  waved 
their  flags,  and  threw  flowers  to  the  little 
Prince.  The  villagers  and  "excitement  fans" 
cheered,  and  somewhere  within  the  grounds  a 
band  began  playing  Brabanconne  (the  Belgian 
National  Anthem).  No  passes  were  demanded 
and  by  a  sheer  piece  of  luck  seven  newspaper- 


100      PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

men  passed  Into  the  grounds  from  which  they 
should  have  been  excluded. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Davison  and  their  two  sons 
and  daughters  greeted  the  royal  party  at  the 
doorway  of  their  summer  home,  while  an  aisle 
was  formed  by  debutantes  in  Red  Cross  cos- 
tume and  young  College  boys  in  khaki  lead- 
ing into  the  house.  After  a  few  words  of 
thanks  the  Queen  entered  and  seated  herself 
at  the  tea  table  with  Mrs.  Davison. 

We  reporters,  still  excluded  from  the  inside 
of  the  house  into  which  we  dared  not  enter  for 
fear  of  being  detected,  peered  through  the  win- 
dows and  gathered  mental  notes.  We  saw  Dr. 
Livingston  Farrand  of  the  American  Red  Cross 
present  a  medal  to  the  Queen  eulogizing  her 
for  her  distinguished  services  to  the  wounded  in 
war  time. 

We  heard  Mr.  Davison  speaking  for  the 
Red  Cross  from  a  printed  document  which  our 
office  had  received  four  days  previous. 

"Belgium's  resistance  to  the  enemy  main- 
tained the  proud  national  tradition  which  has 
descended  from  the  days  of  Csesar,  who  re- 
corded that  of  all  nations  the  Belgians  are  the 
bravest,"  said  the  master  of  Peacock  Point. 
"It  was  this  spirit  that  checked  an  enemy  of 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  loi 

/ 
i 

overwhelming  numbers  and  impeded  his  prog- 
ress until  Belgium's  allies  could  make  hurried 
preparations  to  avoid  immediate  disaster  and 
begin  the  long  struggle  which  ultimately  turned 
threatened   defeat  into   glorious  victory." 

The  Queen,  probably  the  most  charming  of 
the  reigning  monarch's  wives  in  Europe,  arose 
to  reply: 

"I  am  deeply  touched  by  the  greeting  pre- 
pared for  me  by  the  American  Red  Cross.  It 
is  impossible  to  put  into  words  the  gratitude 
that  we  feel  in  Belgium  toward  your  society, 
and  I  think  it  a  great  privilege  to  have  the  op- 
portunity to-day  to  express  to  you  my  thanks." 

There  was  much  dignified  clapping  and  the 
reporters  were  obliged  to  withdraw  lest  they 
be  seen  looking  too  intensely  through  the 
windows. 

Later,  the  distinguished  guests  assembled 
on  the  piazza  overlooking  the  blue  waters  of 
Long  Island  Sound.  It  was  a  beautiful  sunset 
that  we  witnessed  on  that  memorable  after- 
noon. The  gracefully  sloping  meadows  had 
never  appeared  more  green,  the  large  oaks  and 
maples  never  more  inviting,  and  the  Sound 
never  as  quiet  and  peaceful  looking. 

As  I  watched  the  distinguished  personages, 


102      PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

I  thought  of  two  years  before.  I  painted  in  my 
mind  in  still  more  glowing  colors  that  which 
the  sight  before  me  now  brought  back.  I 
wished  for  the  moment  that  I  might  be  given 
the  power  to  paint  as  rapidly  and  as  colorfully 
the  visions  which  were  growing  in  my  mind's 
eye. 

There  sat  General  John  J.  Pershing,  com- 
mander in  chief  of  the  American  Expeditionary 
Forces  in  Europe.  Two  years  before,  almost 
to  a  day,  he  had  completed  the  most  wonderful 
attack  made  by  any  of  the  allies  in  France. 
Two  years  almost  to  a  day  the  American  army 
had  forged  its  way  through  Chateau  Thierry 
and  had  plowed  its  path  into  German  occupied 
regions. 

And  close  beside  him  Ambassador  Jean 
Adrien  Antoine  Jusserand,  representing  the 
French  republic  in  America.  What  France  had 
endured  for  five  weary  years,  what  she  was 
still  enduring  in  the  days  of  reconstruction, 
what  she  would  endure  for  years  to  come 
seemed  stamped  upon  the  features  of  this  re- 
markable representative  of  our  sister  nation. 

General  Hugh  Keppell  Bethel,  military  at- 
tache of  the  British  Embassy  in  Washington, 
one  of  the  youngest — he  was  only  thirty-eight 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  103 

— officials  representing  any  branch  of  foreign 
service,  who  two  years  before,  when  command- 
ing the  66th  division  of  the  4th  British  Army  In 
Belgium,  had  won  four  decorations  for  bravery, 
was  gazing  into  the  distance  as  though  he,  too, 
was  thinking  of  the  days  that  had  gone  before, 
and  the  changes  they  had  wrought  In  his  life. 

And  then  Mrs.  Davison  with  her  husband 
close  at  hand;  the  great  white  banner,  from 
which  shone  the  flaming  cross,  the  emblem  that 
mothers,  sisters,  wives,  and  sweethearts  wor- 
shipped and  loved;  the  emblem  which  saved 
from  peril  and  danger  the  lives  of  millions  of 
those  who  had  enlisted  for  the  cause. 

The  Queen  of  the  Belgians,  and  the  little 
Prince,  what  thoughts  were  theirs  this  beauti- 
ful Autumn  afternoon?  It  was  from  them 
that  the  world  had  learned  to  labor  and  to  be 
glad  when  the  cause  of  justice  was  won. 

At  the  end  of  the  little  group  sat  a  famous 
civilian  soldier.  Through  life  and  death  the 
27th  division  In  America  had  obeyed  the  com- 
mands of  Major  General  O'Ryan.  For  four 
years  the  British,  the  Belgian,  the  French  and 
the  Portuguese  had  tried  to  wedge  their  way 
through  the  impregnable  Hindenberg  line;  for 
four  long  years  they  had  been  repulsed  until 


104      PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

the  time  when  the  New  York  Volunteers  ap- 
proached and  found  that  the  Line  had  become 
a  line  indeed,  for  cement  foundations,  iron 
girders,  aad  the  staunchest  materials  in  the 
world  had  been  embedded  in  its  foundations. 
Four  hours  after  the  famous  Twenty-Seventh 
had  taken  up  post  in  its  area,  the  Line  was 
but  a  memory  of  other  days  and  the  Stars  and 
Stripes  flew  from  every  post  along  the  former 
Double-Eagle  embankment. 

"The  national  spirit  of  Belgium  is  typified 
and  personified  in  the  persons  of  your  majes- 
ties, whose  example  to  our  own  country  has 
stimulated  courage,  endurance  and  sacrifice  in 
all  who  unfeignedly  love  the  cause  of  free- 
dom," said  General  O'Ryan  in  modulated 
tones,  as  he  too  gazed  into  the  distance. 

"In  the  qualities  manifested  by  your  majes- 
ties the  Red  Cross  discerns  the  spirit  of  ser- 
vice and  sacrifice  of  the  American  people,  who 
made  their  Red  Cross  an  instrument  through 
which  they  might  express  in  tangible  form  and 
by  restorative  acts  their  sympathy  for  their 
suffering  associates  and  allies,  and  their  unfal- 
tering determination  to  spare  no  effort  or  sacri- 
fice until  the  war  should  be  won,"  spoke  Mr. 
Davison,  slowly  and  in  clear-cut  tones. 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  105 

General  Bethel,  as  though  brought  back  to 
the  present  with  great  effort,  added:  "I  am 
sure  that  among  the  proudest  privileges  of  my 
compatriots  was  that  of  taking  the  American 
people's  message  direct  to  the  sacred  soil  of 
Belgium  and  to  its  distressed  but  unconquer- 
able people." 

For  a  few  moments  no  one  said  anything, 
and  then  General  Pershing  spoke : 

"May  we  express  to  your  majesties  our  na- 
tional admiration  for  yourselves,  our  hopes  for 
long  and  prosperous  lives  to  you  both,  and  our 
will  that  from  the  crimson  fields  of  war  there 
shall  have  sprung  a  mutual  understanding  and 
a  bond  of  friendship  between  the  two  nations 
which     shall     outlast     all     the     mutations     of 


time." 


At  this  moment  Brigadier  General  George 
R.  Dyer  asked  the  Queen  if  she  would  honor 
the  American  Red  Cross  by  joining.  He  ex- 
plained that  its  third  Roll  Call  for  members 
was  about  to  begin.  Her  Majesty  accepted  the 
honor  and  gave  General  Dyer  a  silver  dollar. 
General  Pershing  was  the  next  to  sign  the  Roll, 
and  the  Queen  laughed  as  she  shook  hands 
with  him,  reminding  him  that  this  was  the  first 
time  she  had  ever  seen  him  in  civilians. 


io6      PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

"Is  it  not  true,"  said  the  Queen  In  a  beauti- 
ful English  voice,  "that  the  only  men  who  are 
always  prepared  for  all  emergencies  are  those 
who  never  allow  their  efforts  to  be  interrupted? 

"May  I  be  allowed  to  say  that  I  shall  follow 
the  development  of  your  work  with  keenest 
interest  and  sympathy." 

She  turned  and,  holding  out  her  hand,  said 
good-bye  to  those  who  had  entertained  and  re- 
ceived her  during  the  afternoon.  Then  Coun- 
tess Gaislaine  de  Caraman-Chimay  accom- 
panied her  to  her  automobile,  and  as  distant 
music  played  the  Star-Spangled  Banner,  the 
Queen  of  the  Belgians  drove  away. 

We  hastened  to  our  car  and  sped  off  for 
New  York,  making  sure  this  time,  however, 
that  we  did  not  include  ourselves  in  the  royal 
party. 

Upon  reaching  the  city  I  hastened  over  to 
the  office  of  the  paper  I  represented  and  wrote 
out  my  story  of  the  day's  events.  I  was  so 
imbued  with  the  wonderful  sight  I  had  wit- 
nessed on  the  piazza  overlooking  the  Sound, 
and  the  glowing  conversations  I  had  recorded 
there,  that  I  did  not  pay  enough  attention  to 
the  news  value  of  the  story. 

That  evening  upon  reaching  home  the  tele- 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  107 

phone  recalled  me  hastily  to  the  office.  The 
Night  City  Desk  was  in  a  rage  concerning  the 
material  which  the  writer  had  handed  in. 

"Wot  d'ya  think  we  sent  y'on?"  I  was  asked. 
"We  don't  want  a  bed  around  the  roses.  We 
want  frank,  free  facts.  Hustle  about  it  now 
and  give  us  the  dope !" 

Quite  tired  out  and  with  many  misgivings  I 
sat  down  and  tried  to  write  the  events  of  the 
day  in  the  purely  cut  and  dried  vernacular. 
When  the  story  was  completed — and  I  still 
have  it  in  my  scrap  book — it  was  three  columns 
in  length  and  led  the  front  page  spread,  but 
what  a  different  story  from  the  one  in  which 
the  spirit  had  moved  me. 

To  this  day,  the  lesson  which  the  writer 
learned  that  evening  has  remained  a  fixture  in 
his  mind.  In  purely  news  material  the  greatest 
lesson  to  be  pounded  into  the  beginner  is: 
"Stick  to  facts,  describe  what,  when  and  where 
it  happened,  and  let  the  editorial  writer  give 
his  impressions  of  how  and  why  the  thing  oc- 
curred." 


CHAPTER  IX 

REPORTING   RIOTS 

I  WAS  coming  up  Park  Avenue  late  one  even- 
ing, when  I  heard  a  shot  fired,  and  saw  a  lot 
of  people  running  down  one  of  the  side  streets 
toward  Lexington  Avenue.  It  had  been  my 
day  off,  and  having  spent  it  in  the  country,  I 
had  not  kept  in  touch  with  the  news. 

Before  I  could  stop  my  car  to  find  out  what 
the  trouble  was  about,  I  saw  a  lot  of  mounted 
policemen  charging  down  Park  Avenue,  swing- 
ing their  clubs  with  great  dexterity.  Still 
unaware  of  what  was  going  on  I  put  on  speed, 
ducked  down  below  the  cowl,  and  sped  past 
them  just  in  time  to  avoid  some  nasty  bruises 
from  their  swinging  clubs. 

A  few  streets  beyond  I  stopped  the  car 
and  inquired  of  passers-by  what  the  trouble 
was  about.  The.  Longshoremen's  strike  was 
still  in  progress  on  the  waterfront,  and  ma- 
chine guns  kept  the  streets  clear  down  there, 
so  it  could  not  have  been  the  boatmen  who 

io8 


PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES       109 

were  causing  this  trouble.  I  was  informed  that 
an  alien  company  was  attempting  to  hold 
German  Opera  in  the  Lexington  Avenue  Opera 
House,  and  that  former  service  men  from  all 
sections  of  the  city  opposed  it. 

On  reaching  home  that  evening  a  hurried 
telephone  call  awaited  me,  ordering  me  to  re- 
port to  the  newspapermen  who  covered  that 
district  for  the  Herald,  as  soon  as  I  could  get 
there.  This  time  I  left  the  car  behind,  and 
with  some  difficulty  finally  managed  to  push  my 
way  through  the  crowds  and  into  the  51st 
Street  Police  Station. 

A  short  time  later,  armed  with  instructions 
and  with  my  press  card  on  the  front  of  my  hat, 
I  set  forth  to  reconnoiter  the  scene  and  en- 
deavor to  pick  up  a  story  here  and  there. 
Aside  from  the  fact  that  there  was  a  large 
crowd  of  reserves  and  regulars,  I  could  find 
nothing  of  interest  within  the  police  lines.  In 
one  of  the  side  streets  some  fifteen  mounted 
men  were  kept  waiting,  and  in  another  a  dozen 
or  so  motorcycle  riders.  The  main  body  of 
reserves  called  from  four  other  stations  were 
held  in  the  rear  of  the  police  station  until  such 
time  as  they  might  be  needed. 

The  mob  was  divided  in  two  of  the   side 


no      PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

streets  just  west  of  the  Opera  House,  with 
overflow  gatherings  on  Lexington  Avenue 
above  53rd  Street.  Most  of  the  men  were  in 
uniform,  and  those  that  were  not  wore  varied 
assortments  of  service  buttons,  medals  and  rib- 
bons. There  was  very  little  sign  of  violence, 
and  not  much  unrest.  The  truth,  as  it  seemed 
to  me,  was  that  they  had  no  one  to  lead  them, 
and  were  waiting  for  some  one  to  rise  and 
take  command. 

Occasional  hoots  and  muttered  oaths  were 
all  the  excitement  of  the  evening,  with  a  few 
charges  by  the  mounted  men  when  the  crowds 
pressed  too  close  to  the  lines. 

The  next  day  all  the  papers  in  and  near  the 
city  ran  "spread"  headlines  condemning  Ger- 
man opera  while  we  were  still  technically  at  war 
with  that  nation.  In  their  editorial  columns 
they  upheld  the  men  who  had  the  courage  and 
determination  to  prevent  German  opera  at  this 
time.  They  urged  the  service  men  to  continue, 
not  by  the  use  of  force,  but  in  the  courts,  so 
that  the  Germans  should  be  kept  in  the  place 
in  which  they  still  belonged.  One  group  of  citi- 
zens tried  to  bring  an  injunction,  in  order  to 
quell  the  possible  terror  which  might  rage  in 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  iii 

New  York  if  the  service  men  and  the  opera 
house  employees  ever  came  to  blows. 

But  that  evening  It  was  announced  that  Ger- 
man Opera  would  continue  just  the  same.  It 
continued,  but  it  was  a  great  deal  different  to 
what  the  managers  had  thought  It  would  be; 
and  had  It  not  been  for  New  York's  police 
force,  I  sincerely  doubt  whether  there  would 
be  any  more  Germans  on  the  New  York  stage. 
But  the  police,  under  orders  from  their  chief 
and  Mayor  Hylan,  proceeded  to  double  their 
guard  around  the  Opera  House. 

As  early  as  seven  o'clock  the  crowds  began 
to  assemble,  and  by  eight-thirty,  the  open- 
ing time,  probably  7,000  people  were  in 
the  streets.  This  time  instead  of  a  quiet, 
dignified  gathering,  there  were  assembled  some 
of  the  "leather-lunged"  lads  of  the  A.E.F. 
Almost  every  one  was  in  uniform,  soldiers, 
sailors  and  marines,  with  a  goodly  scattering  of 
officers  from  all  branches  of  the  service. 

It  was  along  toward  ten  o'clock  when  the 
mob  started  action,  and  a  concentrated  attack 
took  place.  Fiftieth  Street  was  the  scene 
of  the  attack,  but  owing  to  the  numbers 
of  detectives  In  the  crowd  all  news  of  the  ad- 
vance reached  the  51st  Street  station  before 


112      PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

it  had  begun.  This  gave  the  mounted  men 
time  to  order  the  crowds  back,  and  when  they 
did  not  obey  to  charge  them  with  their  clubs. 
Many  ambulances  were  upon  the  scene,  and 
numerous  were  the  times  when  they  were  used, 
although  there  were  but  few  serious  casualties. 
Minor  cuts  and  bruises  were  treated  by  First 
Aid  Dressing  stations  erected  in  the  cellars  of 
nearby  residences,  and  attended  by  volunteer 
nurses  with  wartime  records. 

Just  before  the  opera  was  over  that  even- 
ing a  mass  attack  was  staged  at  the  same  time 
from  six  directions.  This  gave  the  police  a 
great  deal  of  work,  and  their  efforts  were  not 
in  vain,  for  only  eleven  men  penetrated  within 
the  lines.  They  were  arrested  and  locked  up 
for  the  night. 

The  crowd,  driven  back  almost  half-way  up 
the  streets  from  which  they  had  emerged, 
charged  again  and  again,  but  to  no  effect. 
One  group,  however,  in  the  West  52nd  Street 
direction  managed  to  get  through  the  hnes  by 
hiding  in  alleyways  until  the  main  body  of 
the  police  advance  had  passed,  and  then  es- 
caping, formed  a  huge  cordon  and  rushed 
down  upon  the  Opera  House.  Somebody  saw 
them  coming,  just  in  time  to  avoid  a  calamity, 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  113 

for  the  German  players  and  the  motorcycle 
riders,  swinging  night  sticks  with  much  pre- 
cision, speeded  up  Lexington  Avenue.  The 
cracks  which  some  service-men  undoubtedly 
received  could  be  heard  some  distance  away, 
and  many  of  their  comrades  came  from 
all  directions  to  aid  them.  But  as  each  group 
advanced  so  did  the  police,  so  that  very  soon 
the  entire  party  of  ex-service-men  was  driven 
back  to  Park  Avenue. 

Inside  the  opera,  all  was  in  a  state  of  up- 
roar. Hisses  from  the  galleries,  stray  eggs 
and  cabbages,  odoriferous  bombs  and  sneez- 
ing powder  made  a  most  unpleasant  evening 
for  those  who  attended.  Toward  the  close 
of  the  performance  a  soldier  in  civilians  arose 
and  commenced  tearing  the  German  flag  off 
the  stage.  A  host  of  angry  Huns  grabbed  him 
and  tossed  him  into  the  music  pit,  where  he 
landed  on  the  base-drum,  not  so  much  injuring 
himself  as  the  instrument.  He  was  later  ar- 
rested and  charged  with  disorderly  conduct, 
but  was  out  of  the  police  station  on  the  bail  of 
a  hundred  men  in  the  mob. 

The  following  morning,  hot  with  rage, 
2,500  service  men  presented  themselves  at  City 
Hall   and   requested   the   Mayor   to   stop   the 


114      PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

opera.  The  Mayor  refused  to  see  them,  and 
claimed  that  freedom  of  speech  was  allowed  in 
America,  and  that  he  could  do  nothing. 

During  the  afternoon  posts  of  the  American 
Legion  met  everywhere  and  plans  were  formu- 
lated. If  the  Mayor  and  police  would  not  stop 
the  opera,  the  service  men  swore  they  would. 
And  great  was  the  battle  waged  that  night  to 
carry  out  the  threat. 

On  the  morning  of  the  fourth  day,  the  Star 
Opera  Company,  which  was  presenting  the 
opera,  issued  a  statement  denying  that  German 
Opera  would  be  suspended  and  declaring  that 
the  directors  had  resolved  to  continue  with  the 
production  of  the  announced  program  "as  long 
as  it  could  be  produced  on  a  legal  basis,  and 
as  long  as  the  right  of  production  of  opera  in 
German  was  upheld  by  the  courts  and  protected 
by  the  authorities  against  maniacs." 

Had  it  not  been  for  this  last  word  it  is  doubt- 
ful whether  the  mobs  would  have  paid  much 
attention  to  the  declaration.  But  the  word 
"maniacs"  was  enough  to  excite  the  calmest 
imaginations.  War  was  declared  by  those  who 
had  fought  for  America,  against  a  foe  thus 
protected. 

A    revival    of    Weber's    "Freischutz"    was 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  115 

scheduled  to  take  place  that  evening,  and,  it 
was  signified,  would  be  repeated  for  the  next 
two  nights  in  succession.  Even  the  program 
was  glaring  in  its  make-up.  It  stated  that  the 
"maniacs"  who  tried  to  break  up  the  opera 
would  receive  their  just  rewards  from  the 
police  department,  and  went  on  to  add  that 
Germans  had  never  been  beaten  and  were  still 
the  superior  race  of  the  world. 

"The  inclination  of  the  good  American  pub- 
lic to  support  German  opera  was  clearly  shown 
by  the  capacity  audience  on  the  opening  night," 
was  one  of  the  statements  in  the  program. 
"Only  brute  force  can  stop  the  music-loving 
and  peaceful  public  of  this  city  from  support- 
ing the  revival  of  German  opera  at  a  time 
when  trade  relations  are  being  resumed  by 
most  of  our  allies  with  Germany,  and  the  sun 
of  peace  and  freedom  shines  over  the  world." 

Many  posts  of  the  Legion  and  Foreign  Wars 
decided  then  that  peace  and  freedom,  which 
the  Germans  so  loved,  would  shine  over  their 
heads  'ere  many  hours  went  by,  and  further- 
more they  decreed  that  brute  force  would  "do 
the  trick." 

During  the  early  afternoon  H P , 

one  of  the  ablest  reporters  in  New  York  jour- 


ii6      PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

nalism  to-day,  and  the  writer,  went  over  the 
entire  scene  of  the  recent  rioting.  We  clam- 
bered up  rickety  fire-escapes,  peeped  down 
cob-webbed  chimneys,  examined  alleyways 
and  backyards,  shoved  our  way  into  tenements 
and  imposing  apartments,  nosed  around  in 
subway  stations   and   elevated   entrances,   and 

finally  sought  Inspector  U ,  who  had  been 

placed  in  charge  of  all  the  police  defenses. 
The  Inspector,  a  clever,  intense  man,  warned 
us  not  to  expose  ourselves  too  much,  even 
though  in  quest  of  news,  for  his  men  would  be 
armed  with  riot  guns  and  ammunition,  and  the 
order  would  be  "shoot  to  kill."  He  said  the 
New  York  Police  Department  would  take  no 
chances  with  an  angry,  revengeful  mob,  and 
that  in  order  to  carry  out  the  wishes  of  the 
authorities  and  preserve  order  every  precau- 
tion would  be  taken.  Armed  reserves  would 
be  stationed  on  all  nearby  roofs,  and  as  most 
of  the  buildings  were  no  higher  than  six  floors 
this  would  make  guarding  from  above  a 
great  deal  more  simple.  He  told  us  that  ap- 
proximately 1,200  men  would  be  at  his  com- 
mand, and  that  he  believed  they  would  be  suffi- 
cient to  suppress  all  trouble  instigated  by  the 
ex-service  men. 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  117 

At  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  the  police 
lines  were  drawn  up,  making  a  complete  cir- 
cuit of  the  entire  vicinity,  with  patrolmen  at 
intervals  of  twenty  feet.  A  detachment  of 
twenty-five  mounted  men  was  held  at  the  Pre- 
cinct Station,  with  twenty-five  more  in  the  fire- 
house  on  the  block  below.  Ten  motorcycle 
riders  and  four  hundred  patrolmen  were  kept 
at  the  51st  Street  Station.  Reserves  In  small 
groups  of  eight  or  ten  were  stationed  in  the 
apartment  houses  on  Park  Avenue  for  two 
blocks  in  each  direction,  as  well  as  in  the 
tenement  houses  on  the  further  east  side.  Ten 
patrolmen  were  in  the  subway  station  and  an 
equal  number  at  the  elevated  entrance. 

Newspapermen,  and  there  were  fifty-eight  of 
them,  had  commandeered  a  cigar  store  on  the 
corner  of  Lexington  Avenue  and  51st  Street, 
less  than  fifty  feet  from  the  Opera  House 
entrance,  and  right  beside  the  subway  and 
police  station.  This  was  the  only  place  in 
the  vicinity  where  there  were  two  telephone 
booths.  One  enterprising  paper  had  installed 
a  direct  wire  to  its  office,  while  another  em- 
ployed the  Postal  Telegraph  Station  three 
doors  away  and  sent  direct  messages  to  the 
office.    In  our  wanderings  during  the  afternoon 


ii8      PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

we  had  found  a  telephone  in  one  of  the  houses 
opposite  the  Opera  House  entrance,  and  here 
we  took  up  the  Herald  headquarters. 

Besides  the  district  man  we  had  another  re- 
porter from  the  office,  while  Mr.  P carried 

on  the  rewrite  work  and  picturesque  features 
of  the  story. 

At  six-thirty  I  decided  to  get  a  bite  to  eat, 
and  as  very  few  persons  had  shown  up  I 
scurried  down  Lexington  Avenue  to  49th 
Street.  Hardly  had  I  entered  the  little  res- 
taurant than  I  heard  much  muffled  tramping. 
Gazing  out  of  the  door  I  saw  one  of  the 
strangest  parades  I  had  even  seen. 

A  mass  of  all  sorts  of  outfits,  in  close  column 
of  fours,  the  military  formation  so  familiar  a 
few  years  ago,  moved  through  the  darkened 
streets.  They  were  marching  west  toward 
Park  Avenue,  and  were  but  a  few  hundred 
strong.  Ahead  of  them  they  carried  the  flag, 
and  right  down  their  center  a  long  draped 
affair,  which  first  looked  like  a  flag-pole  torn 
from  its  roots  and  placed  between  the  men. 
Later  I  discovered  this  to  be  a  sort  of  "batter- 
ing-ram," the  device  used  by  the  ancient  Ro- 
mans to  tear  down  the  walls  of  a  city  which 
they  attacked. 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  119 

The  companies  passed  the  little  restaurant 
door,  and  when  I  inquired  from  whence  they 
came,  the  only  reply  I  received  was,  "From 
the  Gold  Star  Mothers  of  New  York." 

Park  Avenue  resembled  war-time  days 
rather  than  the  peaceful  section  of  town  that 
it  really  is.  Several  hundreds,  so  it  seemed 
to  the  writer,  were  marching  into  place  on 
this  great  thoroughfare,  and  not  one  single 
policeman  had  appeared  in  sight.  Not  only 
foot  soldiers,  but  motorcycles,  a  few  armored 
cars,  and  a  great  gathering  of  trucks. 

Madison  Avenue,  a  good  block  away,  was 
jammed  with  reserves,  but  reserves  of  the 
A.E.F.,  and  not  of  the  Home  Guard!  All  the 
side  streets  began  to  fill  up,  and  many  on- 
lookers appeared  in  nearby  windows.  What 
was  about  to  take  place  ?  And  why  this  ghastly 
stillness?  It  was  as  though  the  orders  which 
held  sway  twelve  months  before  still  had  the 
same  effect,  and  silence  was  being  maintained 
by  some  supreme  order.  But  more  than  that  it 
signified  that  the  World  War  veterans  meant 
business. 

I  had  a  strong  sympathy  for  those  men,  who 
had  but  one  thing  in  mind,  that  of  crushing  for 
evermore  German  insolence  of  this  kind. 


120      PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

At  eight  o'clock  the  first  sign  of  violence 
occurred.  As  if  by  clockwork  the  entire  dim 
mass  on  'Park  Avenue,  Madison  Avenue  and 
all  *of  the  side  streets,  commenced  to  move, 
slowly  at  first  and  then  with  a  vigor  and  action 
which  indicated  that  something  was  about 
to  occur.  At  the  same  time  a  rumbled  mutter- 
ing could  be  heard  beneath  the  ground,  fol- 
lowed In  quick  succession  by  a  blast  of  police 
whistles,  emanating  from  the  subway  and  ele- 
vated stations. 

In  less  time  than  It  takes  to  tell,  dozens  of 
reserves  were  rushed  In  both  directions,  and 
then  the  fun  began.  A  long  line  of  figures 
began  climbing  down  the  elevated  scaffold- 
ing on  Third  Avenue,  while  the  same  number 
attempted  to  emerge  from  the  underground 
stations.  In  consequence  the  side  streets  were 
filled  and  a  charge  of  a  terrific  nature  took 
place,  followed  by  another  and  another.  The 
police  lines  were  swept  back,  bit  by  bit.  In  all 
directions,  and  It  began  to  look  as  though  the 
singers  In  the  Opera  House  had  better  be  get- 
ting out,  for  their  lives  would  not  be  worth 
much  once  the  service  men  got  Inside  the  house. 

Some  of  the  audience  evidently  fearing  this 
Started    to    leave,    but    upon    reaching    the 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  121 

street  found  they  could  get  nowhere.  One 
elderly  woman  shrieked  and  fainted.  This  was 
the  sign  for  a  general  exodus.  The  service 
men,  on  seeing  their  prey  so  close  at  hand, 
growled  and  yelled  tauntingly.  It  was  as 
though  they  were  at  the  Zoo,  but  the  police 
bars  held  staunch  and  did  not  give. 

Firemen  stationed  in  alleyways  along  the 
side  streets,  once  the  crowds  had  passed  them, 
assumed  their  post,  and  at  a  given  signal  from 
the  police  department  opened  fire  on  the  ser- 
vice men  with  drenching  streams  of  water. 
The  lines  of  the  bold  offensive  crumpled  and 
withdrew,  but  not  without  a  threat  of  re- 
venge for  every  man  who  held  the  hose,  and 
a  few  seconds  later  a  wild  scene  occurred. 
Bricks  and  mortar  tore  through  the  air,  rancid 
eggs  and  putrid  butter  descended  upon  the 
heads  of  the  authorities,  and  shoes  and  ham- 
mers made  life  quite  exciting.  Newspapermen 
who  had  been  standing  in  that  region  shinnied 
up  lamp  posts  or  dove  down  holes  in  the  side- 
walk. 

And  not  to  be  outdone  by  the  authorities,  as 
soon  as  the  "barrage"  had  cleared,  the  motor 
trucks  filled  with  armed  men,  motorcycles  and 


122      PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

armored  cars  tore  up  and  down  Lexington 
Avenue  striking  at  everything  in  sight.  Not  a 
person  was  on  the  streets  except  a  few  who  had 
been  knocked  down  by  flying  missiles;  but  none 
of  the  automotive  vehicles  dared  stop  for  they 
knew  full  well  the  penalty  awaiting  them. 

One  large  truck  overturned  while  attempting 
to  cut  around  the  corner  and  the  driver  was 
badly  injured,  though  miraculously  enough  the 
entire  twenty  men  within  escaped  with  but 
minor  bruises. 

Late  in  the  evening  when  turmoil  reigned 
supreme  the  writer,  accompanied  by  a  man 
from  the  Morning  Telegraph,  went  up  to  the 
rooftops  for  a  new  angle  to  our  stories.  We 
had  just  finished  talking  to  the  patrolman 
armed  with  a  riot  gun,  who  occasionally  fired 
blank  cartridges  above  the  mob,  when  we  heard 
a  nasty  oath  somewhere  out  of  the  darkness. 
We  were  standing  on  the  rickety  fire-escape 
over  an  alleyway,  and  a  whirring  sound  passed 
our  heads.  I  dodged  just  in  time,  but  my  un- 
fortunate companion  received  the  brick  full 
force  and  was  cared  for  at  a  nearby  hospital. 

Just  before  the  opera  closed  all  the  street 
lights  went  out,  and  in  our  attempt  to  find 
our  way  across  the  street,  we  were  apparently 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  123 

warned  just  in  time,  for  a  fireman's  hose  was 
turned  full  force  on  the  reporters'  rest  house. 
I  jumped  down  a  short  cellarway  and  avoided 
a  drenching,  but  some  of  my  companions  were 
not  so  fortunate. 

The  following  morning  the  Star  Opera  Com- 
pany announced  that  owing  to  the  resignation 
of  its  acting  manager,  it,  would  be  obliged 
to  suspend  future  performances.  We  won- 
dered if  there  was  not  more  significance  in  the 
flag  which  won  the  war  than  in  the  resignation 
of  an  acting  manager. 


CHAPTER  X 

A  SOLDIER  OF  FREEDOM 

Colonel  Arthur  Lynch,  that  famous  and 
pugnacious  Australian-Irishman,  visited  the 
United  States  In  the  fall  of  19 19  with  a  plan 
for  the  settlement  of  the  troubles  In  Ireland. 
He  remained  in  this  country  several  weeks 
lecturing  extensively,  but  returned  to  Ireland 
without  the  aid  which  he  believed  he  would  be 
able  to  secure. 

His  declarations  to  the  press  were  numer- 
ous, and  I  may  freely  say  that  they  were  often 
misquoted;  so  much  so  in  fact  that  the  Herald 
agreed  that  they  would  print  one,  with  his 
sanction,  that  should  be  a  correct  version  of 
all  he  wanted  to  tell  the  people.  And  it  was 
in  this  way  that  the  author  was  given  an  op- 
portunity of  meeting  the  famous  soldier  of 
fortune  and  of  freedom. 

Gramercy  Park,  that  section  of  New  York 
still  the  home  of  many  distinguished  old 
families,   lies  to-day  in  the  heart  of   a  large 

124 


PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES        125 

wholesale  cotton  district,  bordering  the  tene- 
ment houses  of  the  lower  East  Side,  and  the 
street  markets  of  Spanish  and  Italian  mer- 
chants. Gigantic  skyscrapers  tower  aloft,  but 
the  trees  and  shrubs  enclosed  by  an  iron  rail- 
ing seem  to  thrive  much  in  the  same  manner  as 
they  did  in  the  days  of  our  grand-sires. 

The  National  Arts  Club,  the  meeting  place 
of  a  majority  of  talented  foreigners  who  visit 
New  York,  lies  encompassed  between  a  former 
livery  stable  and  a  publishing  house  at  the 
lower  end  of  the  park,  and  it  was  here,  amid 
surroundings  hundreds  of  years  old,  that 
Colonel  Lynch  asked  me  to  meet  him. 

Promptly  at  nine-thirty  that  evening  I  pre- 
sented myself  at  the  doorway  of  the  Club,  and 
a  few  moments  later  was  ensconced  in  a  deep, 
damask  chair,  listening  to  the  tales  of  exciting 
adventure  that  Colonel  Lynch  can  so  admir- 
ably describe. 

Born  in  Smythesdale,  Australia,  the  son  of  a 
civil  engineer  of  some  distinction,  he  was  edu- 
cated in  many  countries,  with  medicine  as  his 
future.  His  schooling  took  him  first  to  Bal- 
larat,  then  for  years  to  the  University  of  Mel- 
bourne,   and    later    to    Berlin.      Medicine    he 


126      PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

studied  at  Beaujon  in  Paris,  and  St.  Mary's 
Hospital  in  London. 

His  diplomas  would  place  him  in  line  with 
the  foremost  educators  of  the  world,  for  at 
one  time  or  another  he  received  a  Master  of 
Arts,  a  Doctor  of  Medicine,  the  graduation 
card  from  the  renowned  Ecole  Superieure  de 
I'Electricite,  in  Paris;  and  the  Doctor  of  Ad- 
vanced Medicine,  from  Berlin  University.  He 
is  a  member  of  the  French  Society  of  Physics, 
the  International  Society  of  Engineers,  the 
London  Mathematical  Society,  the  Aristotelian 
Society  and  many  other  scientific  and  literary 
bodies. 

In  the  field  of  journalism  I  learned  that  he 
had  written  for  most  of  the  London  and  Paris 
dailies  and  for  many  magazines  in  the  United 
States.  His  ready  pen  has  added  much  to  the 
worth-while  literature  of  our  time,  and  in  all 
his  books  there  is  a  touch  of  the  philosophic. 
"A  Koran  of  Love,"  "A  New  System,"  and 
"Purpose  and  Evolution"  are  among  his  best 
known  works;  and  he  has  also  published  in 
French  and  German. 

In  1895  Colonel  Lynch  married  the  daugh- 
ter of  the  Rev.  John  D.  Powell,  and  a  few 
years  later  he  placed  his  name   among  those 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  127 

of  international  celebrities;  for  it  was  in  1900 
that  he  formed  an  Irish  brigade  in  Johannes- 
burg, South  Africa,  and  with  the  Boers  fought 
the  British.  For  this  he  was  convicted  of  high 
treason  and  imprisoned  eleven  months  in  Eng- 
land, but  was  released  by  special  writ  from 
King  Edward. 

Two  months  out  of  prison  he  was  elected 
Member  of  Parliament  for  Galway,  and  served 
in  this  capacity  for  four  years,  much  to  the 
anger  of  many  Britishers.  He  then  returned 
to  civil  life,  but  his  constituents  would  not 
allow  him  to  remain  long  in  idleness,  and  in 
1909  he  was  again  elected  to  Parliament,  this 
time  from  the  county  of  West  Clare.  During 
his  term  he  was  an  ardent  supporter  of  the 
Home  Rule  bills,  and  in  later  years  favored 
some  of  the  measures  of  the  Sinn  Feiners. 

In  19 14  he  received  his  Colonelcy  in  the 
British  Army,  and  was  in  charge  of  one  of  the 
Irish  brigades  which  fought  intact  in  France. 
In  July,  19 1 8,  he  requested  the  late  Colonel 
Roosevelt  to  send  a  message  of  encouragement 
to  the  Irish  people,  believing  it  might  prove  a 
stimulant  for  recruiting,  but  although  Roose- 
velt displayed  deep  interest  in  the  proposal  he 
declared  that  as  the  United  States  was  also  at 


128       PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

war  he  could  make  no  formal  comment.  Col. 
Lynch,  however,  retained  the  distinction  of 
having  served  as  Colonel  in  two  wars,  in  both 
of  which  he  commanded  Irish  troops. 

"It  gives  me  a  peculiar  delight  to  come  to 
America,"  Colonel  Lynch  was  saying,  after  we 
had  discussed  some  of  the  episodes  of  his 
earlier  life,  "and  as  I  came  up  New  York 
harbor  the  other  day  it  thrilled  me  to  see  that 
splendid  flag  of  yours,  for  I  knew  that  for 
once  in  my  life  I  had  reached  a  country  where 
democracy  prevailed  and  where  royalty,  past 
or  present,  did  not  have  much  effect  upon  the 
great  majority  of  the  people.  Your  Statue  of 
Liberty,  with  the  miraculous  city  behind  It,  is 
an  angel  of  mercy  to  the  seafarer  who  comes 
in  from  that  troublesome  pond  that  lies  be- 
tween America  and  Ireland.  As  an  ocean,  I 
am  not  fond  of  the  Atlantic.  It  is  not  such  a 
genial,  honest  ocean  as  the  Pacific;  it  does  not 
waft  the  sweet  perfumes  of  the  Indian;  it  is 
not  interesting  like  the  Mediterranean;  in  my 
estimation  it  Is  a  "mugwump"  ocean.  How- 
ever, the  boat  on  which  I  was  a  passenger  is  a 
fine  seaworthy  vessel,  and  I  believe  I  enjoyed 
as  fine  a  passage  as  I  could  expect  at  this  time 
of  year." 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  129 

His  blue  eyes  shone  brightly  as  he  talked, 
and  emanated  a  warmth  and  understanding 
seldom  appreciated  in  the  "interviewed"  na- 
tures of  most  men  with  whom  a  reporter  comes 
in  contact.  His  clear,  quiet  expressions  em- 
phasized everything  that  he  said,  and  his 
varied  life  lent  color  to  his  background.  The 
coming  to  America  of  this  distinguished 
gentleman  meant  more  than  the  casual  visit  of 
a  lecturer.  Many  of  Ireland's  sons  had 
awaited  his  arrival  with  breathless  anxiety;  not 
a  few  Americans  wished  to  know  how  the  cen- 
tury-old dispute  could  be  settled,  and  for  a 
man  who  was  on  record  as  a  champion  of 
liberty  to  present  a  solution  was  evidence 
enough  of  his  sincere  interest  In  the  freedom 
of  Ireland. 

"You  have  asked  me,"  he  continued,  "for 
the  reason  for  which  I  really  came  to  your 
country;  and  you  have  requested  me  to  tell 
you  unhesitantly  my  ideas  of  the  cure  for  the 
cause  which  I  represent.  I  shall  endeavor 
to  state  briefly  to  the  American  public  that 
which  I  preach  In  my  lectures  all  over  the 
civilized  world. 

"I  didn't  come  to  talk  against  the  British, 


130      PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

for  although  pro-Irish,  I  am  not  anti-British. 
I  admire  the  British  people  and  their  ideas, 
but  I  am  not  in  favor  with  the  British  adn  inis- 
tration.  At  present  I  am  out  of  Parliament, 
and  no  longer  connected  with  the  army,  so  I 
have  no  party  to  serve,  except  to  verify  or  dis- 
credit the  things  that  I  hear. 

"I  come  therefore  to  your  shores  as  a  mer- 
chant of  Ideas.  I  come  with  a  solvent  of  the 
Irish  question.  As  a  member  of  the  British 
labor  party,  I  have  faith  in  the  future  labor 
policies  of  the  British  Empire.  I  am  there- 
fore not  only  carrying  out  my  own  policy,  but 
also  as  a  part  of  a  great  democratic  policy, 
am  seeing  justice  done  to  Ireland.  And  that  is 
in  fact  one  of  the  reasons  why  I  could  not  ac- 
cept the  entire  policy  of  the  Sinn  Feiners. 

"The  tactical  mistake  of  the  Sinn  Feiners 
Is  that  they  threw  away  a  powerful  weapon 
when  they  refused  to  come  to  Westminster; 
but  also  from  a  point  of  view  of  propaganda 
they  neglected  what  was  the  sounding  board 
for  the  greatest  magnification  of  expression  of 
opinion  in  the  entire  world.  They  made  a 
mistake  in  not  recognizing  the  full  power  of 
the  labor  movement,  and  they  forsook  any 
chance  of  using  it. 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  131 

"The  Sinn  Feiners  so  far  have  done  marvelsr 
and  they  have  consolidated  their  move  to  an 
extent  beyond  the  hopes  of  many  of  their 
friends,  certainly  far  beyond  the  anticipations 
of  their  enemies;  yet,  I  do  not  see  how  they 
can  win  out.  However,  I  believe  that  their 
program  might  be  carried  out,  and  if  brought 
to  a  reality  made  practicable  through  certain 
modifications  of  ways  and  means;  for  I  fear 
greatly  that  Sinn  Feiners  will  not  get  through, 
at  present,  with  the  tactics  they  employ. 

"The  people  of  the  United  States  cannot 
form  an  idea  of  how  suppressive  the  Irish  form 
of  government  is,  for  the  British  Government 
is  not  only  very  tyrannical,  but  absurdly  so. 
Organization  has  been  suppressed  by  the  Gov- 
ernment, and  all  athletic  or  labor  assemblies 
have  been  suspended.  The  public  playing  of 
football  or  handball,  unless  under  the  aus- 
pices of  the  police,  is  prohibited.  The  British 
fear  that  people  will  congregate  and  exchange 
ideas.  It  is  a  crime  which  constitutes  conspir- 
acy for  more  than  four  persons  to  assemble 
more  than  five  minutes  at  a  street  comer  or 
public  crossing. 

"Ireland    is    the    last    buttress    in    Europe 


132      PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

against  the  spread  of  ideas,  but  there  are  Sinn 
Feiners  in  Ireland  angry  enough  to  do  any- 
thing by  force.  However,  trouble  is  arising 
when  we  find  by  official  figures  that  eighty  per 
cent  of  all  those  who  constitute  or  instigate 
the  workings  of  a  strike  in  a  foreign  country 
are  Irish  by  birth;  this  demonstrates  that  since 
they  cannot  succeed  at  home  they  are  trying 
elsewhere. 

"World  republicanism  must  come,  and  I  shall 
continue  to  fight  for  it  wherever  I  happen  to 
be,  and  I  intend  to  devote  the  rest  of  my  life 
toward  the  cause  of  the  freedom  of  the  world. 
When  it  comes  It  is  sure  to  be  universal.  I 
have  talked  with  soldiers  of  all  the  allied 
armies  and  their  sentiments  are  overwhelm- 
ingly against  a  continuation  of  the  ridiculous 
system  of  rule  by  kings. 

"My  plan  for  the  eventual  solution  of  the 
Irish  question  is  that  the  British  world  should 
be  made  familiar  with  democratic  ideals  and 
should  proceed  as  rapidly  as  possible  to  estab- 
lish a  republic  in  Ireland,  and  even  in  England, 
herself.  If  not,  the  laboring  classes  will  take 
drastic  means. 

"Whatever  be  the  right  or  wrong  of  my 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  133 

policy,  the  English  Government  would  never 
dream  of  granting  that  demand,  except 
through  sheer  physical  force;  and  no  physical 
force  large  enough  exists  in  Ireland.  Never- 
theless, if  Sinn  Feiners  were  able  to  carry  out 
to  the  full  extent  their  policy  they  could  claim 
they  had  forced  the  British  Government  to  a 
condition  in  which  it  was  prepared  to  offer  a 
far  greater  scheme  of  home  rule  than  it  had 
hitherto  contemplated,  namely,  dominion  home 
rule. 

"This  is  but  a  stepping  stone  to  the  final 
settlement,  and  the  latter  will  come  when  the 
dominions  themselves  work  out  their  natural 
evolution  and  become  republics.  Let  me  add 
that  the  time  is  coming,  possibly  within  five 
years,  when  the  English  empire  shall  be  dis- 
rupted from  within  unless  she  ceases  giving 
her  lavish  nobility  such  rights  as  her  common 
citizens  are  not  allowed  to  look  upon." 

On  October  26th  we  published  Colonel 
Lynch's  remarkable  interview;  a  few  days  later 
I  met  him  on  the  street.  He  thanked  me  for 
the  story,  and  told  me  that  he  was  off  for 
Canada  that  evening,  and  would  preach  his 
doctrine  there;  but  the  following  day  it  was  re- 
ported that  he  had  been  detained  upon  arriv- 


134      PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

ing  In  Montreal.  For  a  long  time  I  heard 
nothing  of  the  great  soldier,  then  one  day 
several  weeks  later  I  read  that  he  had  been 
arrested  in  West  Clare  county,  a  Sinn  Fein 
stronghold,  for  seditious  utterances.  He  was 
freed  again,  and  a  short  time  ago  sprang  into 
the  columns  of  the  British  press  as  opposed 
to  the  recent  policy  of  Lloyd  George.  What 
will  be  his  final  fate  no  one  knows,  but  his 
courage  and  his  sagacity  are  such  that  they  in- 
spire rather  than  deteriorate  the  purpose  of 
any  one  possessed  of  a  fiery  temperament  and 
bent  upon  doing  his  best  for  humanity. 


CHAPTER  XI 

SMALL  FRY 

In  all  large  newspaper  organizations  there 
are  certain  men  trained  in  particular  branches 
of  work,  just  as  there  were  men  trained  for 
each  branch  of  the  army  during  the  war,  so 
that  whenever  a  story  of  especial  merit  occurs 
there  is  a  man  versed  in  its  sphere  who  can  be 
sent  out  to  get  the  details.  These  men,  the 
most  efficient  in  their  various  capacities,  are 
assigned  to  different  departments,  and  in  many 
offices  to  different  rooms.  In  most  cases  the 
trained  advocates  usually  belong  to  Crime, 
Politics,  Finance,  Dramatics,  Art,  Sports, 
Society,  Education,  and  Shipping. 

The  main  offices  of  a  metropolitan  news- 
paper are  occupied  by  the  general  duty  men, 
whose  business  it  is  to  "cover"  all  the  general 
news  not  specialized  by  the  departmental  men, 
and  this  includes  dinners,  banquets,  church 
meetings,  raids,  accidents,  minor  fires  and  bur- 
glaries,  romances,   scandals,  boards  of  trade, 

135 


136      PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

lost  children  and  relatives,  financial  drives  and 
parades.  The  term  usually  used  for  the  lat- 
ter, by  the  general  duty  reporters,  is  "small 
fry,"  for  seldom  are  any  of  these  things  given 
over  a  paragraph  display,  and  often  they  are 
not  recorded  at  all. 

Occasionally,  however,  one  picks  up  interest- 
ing squibs  of  news  in  this  manner,  and  when 
this  is  so  "small  fry"  occupies  a  large  space  on 
one  of  the  leading  pages,  or  may  even  shove 
itself  into  a  "box,"  the  term  applied  to  the 
paragraphs  enclosed  in  a  black-lined  square  at 
the  top  of  the  front  page.  It  is  then  that  the 
heart  of  a  promising  young  newspaperman 
takes  a  great  jump,  for  as  this  occurrence  sel- 
dom happens  it  is  a  red-letter  day  in  his  life. 

Most  of  the  precinct  fire  houses  and  police 
stations  in  the  larger  cities  are  occupied  by 
newspapermen  from  almost  every  paper  in  the 
city.  The  duties  of  these  district  men  are  few 
and  far  between,  and  many  of  them  are  en- 
gaged in  other  occupations,  but  should  an 
alarm,  requiring  a  policeman  or  a  fire-engine 
to  leave  the  station,  be  sounded^  the  district 
man  must  follow  it  to  its  end.  If,  however, 
the  occurrence  is  worthy  of  three  alarms,  usu- 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  137 

ally  a  "small  fry"  man  is  sent  from  the  main 
office  as  well. 

Many  are  the  times  that  the  author  has  has- 
tened from  a  warm,  comfortable  office  out  in- 
to the  damp,  chilly  midnight  air,  to  run  down 
a  thief,  or  watch  gleaming  flames  lick  up  the 
sides  of  a  rusticated  mansion.  One  evening  a 
triple  alarm  had  sounded  from  the  theatrical 
district,  and  the  author  had  been  dispatched  to 
discover  its  cause.  'On  Forty-Second  Street, 
east  of  Broadway  and  west  of  Sixth  Avenue, 
the  Bush  Terminal  Office  Buildings  presented 
a  wonderful  sight,  with  angry  flames  curling 
up  their  walls.  A  tremendous  crowd  had  as- 
sembled at  the  Broadway  intersection,  and  it 
took  several  minutes  to  fight  one's  way 
through  them  and  into  the  guarded  arena  be- 
yond which  no  one,  unless  he  possessed  a  police 
or  press  pass,  could  enter. 

For  a  long  time  I  contented  myself  with 
standing  in  a  group  of  almost  a  half-hundred 
newspapermen  who  had  sprung  from  nowhere, 
and  then  the  idea  occurred  of  finding  out  how 
much  damage  had  been  done  and  how  it  started, 
for  the  fire  did  not  seem  lower  than  the  sixth 
floor.     Four  other  reporters  joined  me,  and  we 


138      PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

made  our  way  through  a  mass  of  broken  glass 
to  the  elevator  shaft  beneath  the  great  building. 
The  elevators  were  still  running,  although  much 
water  was  trickling  down  the  shafts  from 
above,  and  we  placed  ourselves  in  one  of  them 
with  several  firemen.  At  the  fifth  floor  we  were 
told  to  get  out,  for  something  had  happened 
to  the  mechanism  of  the  lift;  none  of  us  needed 
a  second  bidding.  All  the  lights  were  out,  but 
flashlights  aided  our  progress  and  revealed  that 
the  ceilings  of  these  ofiices  were  still  intact, 
although  water  was  seeping  through  cracks 
at  different  intervals;  we  judged  by  this  that 
the  fire  had  made  its  way  upward  and  that  only 
water  was  coming  down. 

A  fireman,  who  was  putting  on  one  of  his 
rubber  boots,  volunteered  the  information  that 
there  was  a  stairway  to  the  street,  two  doors 
to  the  rear;  and,  upon  further  questioning, 
told  us  that  the  fire  had  damaged  a  great  col- 
lection of  goods  belonging  to  the  ruler  of 
Persia.  From  scattered  bits  of  information 
which  I  gained  from  various  employees  during 
that  evening  it  developed  that  these  goods, 
chiefly  rugs  and  precious  stones,  had  been  sent 
from  Persia  to  the  exhibition  in  San  Francisco. 
Upon  examining  records  of  this  exhibit  I  found 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  139 

that  they  were  valued  at  close  to  $2,000,000. 
I  then  learned  that  over  half  the  collection 
had  been  destroyed  by  the  fire. 

Further  questioning  revealed  that  the  fire 
had  started  by  means  of  the  candles  and  kero- 
sene lamps  which  were  being  used  in  order  to 
economize  on  fuel.  This  was  the  second  por- 
tion of  the  story  which  made  interesting  read- 
ing, and  when  I  reached  the  street  I  overheard 
the  third  paragraph  of  my  tale.  An  elderly 
woman  who  was  being  helped  into  an  ambu- 
lance was  telling  a  police  ofiicial  that  she  had 
counted  200  people  who  left  the  building  less 
than  four  minutes  after  the  first  alarm  had 
been  sounded. 

Raids  often  prove  as  exciting  as  spectacu- 
lar fires,  and  many  times  I  have  waited  with 
beating  heart  while  the  detectives  slowly 
pounced  upon  their  prey.  I  remember  espe- 
cially one  night  in  the  dead  of  winter  when  a 
famous  gambling  den  was  raided.  Several 
patrolmen  and  plain-clothes  men  were  sta- 
tioned at  every  exit  of  the  building,  while  four 
reporters  were  hidden  in  an  alleyway  opposite. 
At  a  given  signal  the  doorbell  was  rung  and  a 
detective,  dressed  in  the  fashion  of  those  who 


I40      PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

played  there,  asked  to  be  admitted.  The  door 
opened  silently,  and  the  officer  entered.  For 
a  long  time  everything  was  silent,  and  then  we 
heard  a  shot  and  saw  the  lights  go  out.  Con- 
fusion reigned  supreme  for  a  few  minutes,  and 
the  entire  thoroughfare  bristled  with  blue- 
coats;  then  the  lights  came  on  again  and  a 
police  wagon  drew  up  in  front  of  the  door. 
Eight  or  nine  men  were  led  into  it,  and  the  re- 
porters climbed  on  the  rear.  At  the  police 
station  the  fictitious  names  of  those  seized  were 
recorded  upon  the  blotters.  Of  the  nine  men 
whose  names  were  being  registered  I  recog- 
nized four,  and  they  were  all  prominent  in  the 
amateur  sporting  world.  The  following  morn- 
ing we  were  the  only  paper  in  town  to  record 
the  correct  names  of  those  who  had  been  ar- 
rested the  night  before. 

I  never  knew  until  I  had  been  on  the  staff 
of  the  Herald  several  months  how  many 
different  organizations  existed  in  the  city 
of  New  York,  and  I  would  doubtless  have 
never  known  this  if  it  had  not  been  that  for 
weeks  I  had  been  assigned  to  dinners,  lunches 
and  banquets.  The  night  life  of  the  "maitre 
d'hotel"  in  any  of  our  large  hostelries  must 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  141 

be  a  phantasmagoria  of  sensations,  so  much  so 
that  I  should  not  wonder  if  he  were  driven 
insane  long  before  his  contract  had  elapsed. 
For  seldom  do  hotels  of  the  size  of  the  Waldorf 
Astoria,  the  Commodore,  the  Astor,  the  Penn- 
sylvania or  the  Biltmore  pass  by  a  single  day 
without  at  least  four  or  five  large  organizations 
meeting  there  for  a  luncheon  or  dinner.  The 
reporter  who  handles  such  material  soon  be- 
comes as  disgusted  as  the  waiter  who  serves 
each  new,  expectant  diner. 

Oscar,  for  many  years  head  waiter  of  the 
Waldorf  Astoria,  was  retired  recently  with  a 
goodly  pension,  for  during  the  twenty  or  more 
years  in  which  he  occupied  a  leading  position  In 
that  famous  hotel,  he  seldom  missed  a  day  or 
night's  service.  Oscar  was  the  friend  of  all 
reporters,  and  seldom  did  a  few  hours  pass  that 
he  was  not  imparting  news  of  especial  Impor- 
tance to  the  outposts  of  the  press. 

Night  after  night,  with  four  or  more  "small 
fry"  assignments  on  my  pad,  I  used  to  call  up 
the  "maitres  d'hotel"  of  the  numerous  places 
to  which  I  had  been  assigned  to  find  out  which 
assignment  was  the  most  important.  And 
night  after  night  I  have   "covered"  perfume 


142      PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

manufacturers,  cotton  merchants,  secret  so- 
cieties, or  a  college  class,  silk  association,  Amer- 
icanization association,  humanitarian  or  alumni 
association,  merchant  association,  grave  dig- 
gers' union,  masonic.  Salvation  Army,  clothing 
workers,  farm  magazine  association,  political 
birthday,  army  and  relief  fund  dinners. 

Sometimes  the  press  had  tables  reserved  for 
them,  often  beneath  the  speaker's  table;  at 
others  there  would  be  no  accommodations 
whatever,  but  men  were  stationed  at  the  door 
with  printed  copies  of  the  speeches  to  be 
made,  and  the  reporter  would  need  but  a  few 
moments  to  collect  this  data.  Occasionally 
there  would  be  no  reservations  and  no  printed 
matter,  and  yet  some  important  dignitary 
scheduled  to  speak;  and  this  was  the  kind  of  as- 
signment we  detested,  for  it  meant  hours  of 
waiting  in  the  galleries  above  the  dining  halls, 
with  poor  acoustics,  trying  to  get  the  master 
words  that  the  speaker  of  the  evening  was 
about  to  deliver.  Once  during  a  function  of 
some  sort  or  other  the  speech  of  the  evening 
was  read  from  a  pamphlet  which  proved  to  be 
forty  printed  pages  in  length.  It  was  an  im- 
portant declaration  from  the  Wheat  Growers' 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  143 

Association  and  we  needed  at  least  five  hun- 
dred words  from  it,  but  it  was  close  on  to  the 
time  when  our  first  edition  went  to  press  be- 
fore I  could  make  head  or  tail  out  of  the  long, 
weighty  discussion  which  was  being  made. 

Accidents,  unless  of  great  importance,  are 
seldom  recorded  by  the  New  York  press,  yet 
should  a  prominent  person  be  hurt  or  any  one 
killed  their  names  are  always  mentioned.  Out- 
siders think  that  every  time  a  taxicab  rams 
another  one,  or  a  street  car  jumps  the  track, 
or  the  glass  is  smashed  in  a  subway  window, 
that  a  reporter  will  appear  upon  the  scene, 
secure  all  names,  and  next  morning  the  entire 
story  flash  before  the  public.  This  is  not  true. 
Minor  accidents  happen  every  minute  all  over 
the  great  city  and  are  never  recorded  in  any 
of  the  morning's  papers;  usually  the  policeman 
of  the  district  brings  his  tale  before  the  lieu- 
tenant commanding  his  post  and  the  notation 
is  entered  upon  the  "blotter,"  the  term  applied 
by  the  press  to  the  police-recording  ledger. 
Sometimes  a  city  news  reporter  is  sent  out  to 
view  the  scene  of  trouble,  and  if  he  thinks  it 
worthy  of  mention  it  is  given  a  few  lines  on 
the  ticker,  which  repeats  mechanically  in  every 
newspaper  ofl'ice  at  once. 


144      PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

There  Is  a  young  man  now  on  the  staff  of 
a  New  York  paper  who  was  exceedingly  anx- 
ious to  be  affiliated  with  that  organization, 
but  who,  through  inexperience,  was  not  able  to 
secure  a  position.  He  was  told,  however,  that 
should  he  succeed  in  distinguishing  himself  in 
any  striking  manner  he  would  be  placed  on  the 
staff.  At  this  time  he  was  a  student  at  a  school 
of  journalism  in  the  city,  and  one  evening  while 
traveling  down-town  in  the  elevated  shortly 
before  midnight,  was  pinned  under  the  wheels 
of  the  car  in  which  he  was  traveling  during  a 
terrific  collision.  When  he  extricated  himself 
he  made  for  the  nearest  telephone  and  gave  the 
deserving  paper  the  entire  story  of  the  wreck, 
continuing  to  do  so  until  daylight.  The  fol- 
lowing morning  this  paper  "scooped"  all  others 
on  its  first  edition  and  presented  a  more  com- 
plete story  in  its  later  editions  than  any  of  its 
competitors. 

Lost  relatives  are  another  source  of  ennui  to 
the  daily  press,  and  they  were  especially  so  to 
the  Herald,  for  its  circulation  and  prestige  were 
often  thought  to  be  a  medium  for  finding  those 
who  had  strayed  from  home.  Periodically, 
once  or  twice  a  week,  sad  citizens  would  ask 
that  a  reporter  be  sent  to  them,  and  when  the 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  145 

Ill-fated  young  man  appeared  would  burst  into 
tears,  revealing  to  him  the  absence  of  a  dear 
one.  The  tale  of  woe  would  be  long  and  heart- 
rending, accompanied  by  photographs  and 
directions  by  which  the  tardy  one  might  be 
found.  The  author  very  often  was  inclined  to 
believe  that  although  presumably  lost,  the  hus- 
band or  wife  was  in  reality  seeking  a  quiet 
change  of  surroundings. 

The  publishing  of  a  newspaper  is  considered 
by  authorities  merely  another  form  of  private 
business,  so  that  libel  is  consequently  a  tre- 
mendous offense,  and  reporters  sent  to  investi- 
gate a  scandal  are  usually  cautioned  not  to 
sacrifice  accuracy  for  the  sake  of  speed.  It  is 
far  better  to  secure  a  correct  story  than  one 
which  may  be  in  advance  of  the  others,  but  in- 
correct in  detail. 

Thus,  rumored  romances  or  quietly  re- 
counted divorces  may  cost  a  paper  thousands  of 
dollars  if  some  basis  of  truth  is  not  established. 
Sometimes  some  papers  "take  a  chance,"  know- 
ing that  those  involved  would  not  sue  for  the 
simple  reason  that  they  would  not  like  to  air 
their  domestic  affairs  in  public.  Occasionally 
papers  employ  sleuths  to  watch  every  move- 
ment of  those  whom  they  suspect,   and  these 


146      PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

investigators  turn  over  their  findings  to  trained 
newspapermen. 

I  remember  a  difficult  case  on  which  I  was 
assigned  late  one  evening,  for  such  cases  usu- 
ally occur  after  dark.  A  sensational  mar- 
riage had  taken  place  a  few  months  previous 
between  a  wealthy  bachelor  and  a  noted  Euro- 
pean singer,  but  a  "tip"  had  been  received  at 
the  office  to  the  effect  that  the  romancers  were 
no  longer  on  speaking  terms.  The  City  Desk 
wished  to  confirm  this  rumor,  and  several  re- 
porters were  dispatched  on  separate  errands. 
As  it  was  my  duty  to  shadow  the  "man  In  the 
fase,"  I  spent  a  most  varied  night  careening 
about  the  city  in  a  taxicab  chartered  for  the 
purpose,  diving  into  all  sorts  of  strange,  out- 
of-the-way  localities  and  finally  ending  up  at 
the  apartment  In  which  the  former  bachelor 
resided  before  his  marriage.  The  follow- 
ing day  the  same  thing  happened,  and  for  a 
week  I  made  myself  familiar  with  the  habitat 
of  the  wealthy  clubman;  and  then  one  day,  as 
luck  would  have  It,  another  "tip"  was  re- 
ceived that  the  couple  we  were  so  earnestly 
patronizing  were  about  to  sail  for  Europe, 
where   a   secret  decree   of   divorce  would  be 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  147 

sousht.  But  the  divorce  never  materialized, 
and  as  there  was  nothing  strange  in  the  doings 
of  either  the  man  or  the  woman  we  thereby- 
saved  the  paper  what  might  otherwise  have 
been  an  extremely  distasteful  lawsuit. 

One  would  be  surprised  at  the  number  of 
residents  of  any  large  city  who  nightly  attend 
revolutionary  meetings  in  public  buildings  all 
over  the  city.  In  New  York  this  is  especially 
true,  and  hundreds  of  good,  clear-thinking 
Americans  are  being  influenced  daily  by  the 
radical  utterances  of  irresponsible  persons. 

The  author  has  often  attended  meetings  in 
churches  where  the  Gospel  of  the  Lord  is  sup- 
planted by  the  anti-government  verbal  explo- 
sions of  a  misled  citizen.  He  has  delved  into 
auditoriums  where  the  air  was  filled  with  blas- 
phemy and  the  clapping  of  hands.  He  has 
taken  down  the  records  of  meetings  where 
anarchy  and  sordid  utterances  reigned  supreme, 
and  he  has  gazed  upon  citizens  whose  integrity 
would  never  have  been  questioned  had  they  not 
been  watched  as  eager  participants  in  some  un- 
American  demonstration. 


CHAPTER  XII 

A  VICTIM  OF  ARTIFICIALITY 

Christmas  morning,  1920,  dawned  bright 
and  cold,  snow  had  fallen  during  the  night, 
completely  covering  the  ground,  and  as  yet  but 
few  street  cleaners  were  about.  In  the  years, 
heretofore,  except  those  Christmases  which  had 
been  spent  in  the  army,  the  author  had  been  able 
to  take  a  few  extra  winks  of  much  needed  rest, 
but  this  Christmas  was  different.  The  night  be- 
fore the  mighty  City  Editor  had  told  all  re- 
porters that  they  would  be  expected  at  their 
desks  not  later  than  nine-thirty. 

Shortly  after  ten  o'clock  I  was  on  my  way 
with  orders  to  secure  an  interview  from  Mau- 
rice Maeterlinck,  the  Belgian  poet.  Further- 
more, I  was  told  not  to  return  until  my  mission 
was  complete.  It  was  a  hopeless  outlook,  for 
weeks  before  the  news  had  been  spread  that 
although  Maeterlinck  was  over  here  on  a  lec- 
turing tour,  he  did  not  wish  to  be  interviewed, 

148 


PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES      149 

and  it  was  certain  that  he  was  not  going  to 
be  interviewed,  if  he  and  his  party  could  pre- 
vent it. 

Arriving  at  the  apartment  house  where  it 
was  reported  he  was  staying,  I  was  greeted  by 
the  cheers  and  jeers  of  some  dozen  or  more 
correspondents  evidently  in  the  same  position  as 
the  author.  Sev^eral  camera  men  and  one  or 
two  motion-picture  operators  were  in  the  group. 

Upon  entering  the  building  I  told  the  tele- 
phone operator  that  a  representative  of  the 
New  York  Herald  wished  to  see  Mr.  Maeter- 
linck. At  first  the  operator  only  giggled  and 
said  that  each  time  she  announced  a  new  news- 
paperman the  receiver  was  slammed  down 
peremptorily.  However,  she  took  a  chance, 
and  to  our  surprise  the  answer  was  to  "send 
him  up." 

The  elevator  man,  another  of  us  poor  indi- 
viduals who  were  obliged  to  work  on  this  day 
of  all  days,  looked  me  carefully  up  and  down 
as  though  questioning  whether  I  concealed  a 
hidden  weapon  or  was  just  a  poor  simpleton 
led  astray  by  the  fame  of  the  Belgian  muse. 
His  remark  as  I  left  the  car  justified  my  belief: 

"It's  de  door  to  dc  left,  sir;  I  suppose  dat's 


ISO      PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

wot  yVant.  He's  de  feller  wot  can  make  us 
come  t'life  again,  dey  tells  me,  but  I'm  tellin' 
yer  he's  one  big  fake." 

I  laughed  and  rang  the  bell.  The  door  was 
opened  almost  immediately  by  a  French  maid, 
who  quietly  showed  me  into  a  little  waiting 
room.  In  a  few  minutes  Henry  Russell,  for 
merly  a  director  of  the  new  opera  in  Paris,  as 
well  as  Covent  Garden  in  London,  and  the 
Chicago  Opera  Company  in  Illinois,  greeted 
me  with  outstretched  hands.  Mr.  Russell  told 
me  that  he  was  to  be  Maeterlinck's  director  in 
this  country,  especially  as  they  were  great  per- 
sonal friends.  Although  I  had  never  met  him 
personally  before  I  distinctly  remembered  him 
as  the  producer  of  *'Pelleas  and  Melisandre," 
one  of  Maeterlinck's  first  plays,  which  was 
given  in  Boston  several  years  ago.  Russell,  in 
connection  with  Richard  Hovey,  is  responsible 
for  much  of  Maeterlinck's  translations  in  this 
country. 

He  left  me  alone  for  a  few  minutes,  and  I 
amused  myself  by  looking  out  of  the  window 
at  the  other  newspapermen  jogging  up  and 
down  to  keep  from  freezing  on  the  sidewalk 
below.  I  was  just  wondering  why  I  had  been 
so  lucky  as  to  get  to  the  point  of  attack  so 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  151 

quickly  when  the  door  reopened  and  Russell,  in 
low  tones,  told  me  to  advance,  for  the  "Great 
Master,"  as  he  termed  Maeterlinck,  was  await- 
ing my  presence. 

At  first  I  thought  he  was  joking.  So  I 
played  up  with  the  game  and  tiptoed  into  the 
hallway  beyond.  A  few  seconds  elapsed  and 
then  the  hall  suddenly  became  quite  dark  and 
a  curtain  parted  ahead  of  me.  When  my  eyes 
became  accustomed  to  this  semi-dramatic  effect 
I  saw  a  long,  tremendously  high  apartment 
hung  in  deep,  rich  damask,  void  of  furniture 
with  the  exception  of  a  few  necessary  tables 
and  chairs,  and  singular  to  relate  having  only 
one  little  window.  Through  this  a  silvery  light 
was  shining  into  the  far  end  of  the  room,  which 
I  later  discovered  was  caused  by  the  deep  snow 
on  nearby  roofs.  For  a  moment  it  so  blinded 
me  that  I  saw  nothing  of  any  one  else,  and 
then  to  the  right  of  the  window,  in  a  deep  easy 
chair,  sat  a  figure  clothed  entirely  in  white.  It 
seemed  in  deep  meditation  and  did  not  move  as 
I  entered  the  room. 

In  my  mind  there  buzzed  back  and  forth 
those  two  strange  words  of  a  moment  before, 
the  "Great  Master";  but  what  a  different 
conception    from    the    brain    picture    was    the 


152      PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

one  which  now  greeted  my  eye.  The  smok- 
ing jacket,  for  such  it  was,  contrary  to  my 
opinion  that  Maeterlinck  was  still  clothed  in 
his  pajamas,  the  blue  bedroom  slippers  and 
the  deep  look  of  meditation  strongly  brought 
back  the  words  of  the  elevator  man  who  had 
brought  me  to  this  mysterious  chamber. 

When  Maeterlinck  arose  to  greet  me,  I  real- 
ized the  full  dignity  of  the  great  man,  and  his 
very  unconventional  way  soon  impressed  me. 
He  was  not  young  looking,  yet  far  from  old, 
and  his  thought  that  he  was  being  imposed  upon 
to  make  "effect"  for  the  columns  of  the  daily 
papers  made  me  a  bit  indignant.  We  seated 
ourselves  by  the  window  overlooking  the  great 
city,  and  a  calm  smile  soon  settled  over  his 
face  as  though  he  were  thinking  of  what  Christ- 
mas meant  to  thousands  of  homes  beneath  the 
distant  roofs. 

Though  far  from  garrulous  in  the  presence 
of  comparative  strangers  Maeterlinck  talked 
freely  enough  about  those  things  which  seemed 
to  be  of  foremost  importance  in  his  mind. 
His  power  of  description  was  vivid,  and  yet 
expressed  in  English  it  was  most  amusing. 
We  spoke  chiefly  in  French,  for  he  told  me 
confidentially  that  English  was  as  hard  for  him 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  153 

to  grasp  as  laughing  would  be  to  a  pessimist. 

"I  am  literally  swamped  with  America's  hos- 
pitality," he  said  to  me,  and  his  eyes  moistened 
as  he  continued,  "you  Americans  haven't  given 
me  time  to  breathe  nor  to  thank  you.  I  do 
not  wish  to  hurt  anybody's  feeHngs,  but  how 
can  I  thank  every  one  myself? 

"Do  you  see  that  cake  over  there  on  the 
table?  A  very  poor  old  man  brought  it  to  me 
this  morning.  He  said  that  he  had  avoided 
the  attendants  downstairs  and  had  climbed 
many  flights  in  order  to  reach  me  personally. 
I  was  then  in  my  bath  and  my  servant  told  him 
he  couldn't  see  me.  He  said  he  didn't  care 
how  he  saw  me  as  long  as  he  could  just  look 
at  me  and  tell  his  friends  whether  I  looked 
like  what  he  thought  I  ought  to  look  like,  or 
not.  I  did  not  know  that  he  was  there  and, 
hearing  a  slight  noise  in  my  living  room,  I 
got  out  of  the  bath,  threw  a  towel  around  my- 
self, and  while  still  dripping  wet  went  into 
the  other  room.  The  little  old  man  bowed 
profusely  and  handed  me  the  cake.  He  said 
he  was  a  poor  Belgian  poet  and  had  been  up 
all  night  writing  a  verse  and  making  his  cake 
for  me.     He  refused  to  give  his  name,  as  he 


154      PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

said  it  might  look  as  though  he  were  trying 
to  get  publicity. 

"I  was  more  touched  by  that  cake  than  many 
other  things  I  have  received  in  years.  I  shall 
treasure  it,  if  it  can  be  treasured,  as  though 
it  contained  valuable  jewels — and  yet  it  is  but 
one  of  a  hundred  gifts  that  have  reached  me 
in  the  past  twenty-four  hours.  You  Ameri- 
cans are  indeed  a  generous,  wonderful 
people." 

Photographs  do  not  do  Maeterlinck  jus- 
tice, for  he  really  radiates  an  atmosphere  of 
peace  and  cordiality.  Although  it  is  a  well 
established  fact  that  he  has  always  shut  him- 
self away  from  visitors,  it  is  not  because  of 
any  unwillingness  on  his  part.  I  believe  that 
his  attitude  toward  the  public  has  always  been 
grossly  misrepresented,  for  as  a  matter  of  fact 
he  impressed  me  as  being  most  kindly  disposed 
toward  the  world  in  general.  He  is  less  likely 
to  intimidate  than  to  be  intimidated.  His  deep 
sensibilities  and  the  understanding  of  the  emo- 
tions of  his  fellow  men  have  made  him  the 
genius  of  the  sphere  in  which  he  moves,  and 
yet  all  of  this  had  to  be  cast  aside  when  he 
came  to  America,  and  instead  a  screen  of 
foolishness  erected  in  order  to  bewilder  a  news- 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  155 

paperman,  representing  a  paper  that  was  pub- 
lished in  Paris  as  well  as  in  New  York,  who 
might  in  turn  elaborate  to  an  awestricken  pub- 
lic. He  justified  my  surmises  when  he  next 
spoke. 

"Usually  I  am  scared  to  death  of  reporters. 
I  have  been  picked  apart  and  reassembled  so 
many  times  that  I  am  afraid  to  trust  any  of 
them.  You  newspapermen  have  so  many  ex- 
pressions at  which  you  snicker  and  laugh  as 
though  they  conveyed  great  amusement.  To 
me  they  are  guttural  and  harsh  sounding.  My 
tongue  always  seems  to  come  too  late;  the  for- 
mation of  the  muscles  of  the  mouth  and  tongue 
of  the  foreigner  are  too  set  to  adapt  them- 
selves to  your  unphonetic  spelling.  French, 
on  the  other  hand,  is  spoken  with  an  intensity 
and  ease  the  same  as  it  is  spelled." 

Here  he  hesitated,  then  lighting  a  cigarette 
continued,  "I  have  long  wished  to  come  to 
this  weird  and  mysterious  land,  but  I  have 
always  been  afraid  of  that  prying  publicity  for 
which  America  and  Americans  are  renowned. 
And  then,  too,  I  did  not  know  the  language. 
Finally  my  friend,  Henry  Russell,  bid  me  make 
my  debut  to  tell  Americans  my  discoveries  of 
what  happens  to  us  after  death.    That  is  why  I 


156      PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

am  here  to-day.  Three  weeks  before  my  de- 
parture I  got,  as  you  Americans  would  say,  'cold 
in  the  feet,'  and  wrote  Mr.  Russell  that  I  could 
not  come,  yet  I  am  here  all  the  same.  I  do  not 
hesitate  to  tell  you  that  I  am  a  very  nervous, 
timid  individual,  and  that  my  greatest  desire  is 
to  be  left  quiet  and  alone. 

"Since  I  am  here  I  shall  talk,  as  I  promised, 
on  the  hereafter,  for  I  believe  that  I  consider 
It  from  an  entirely  different  point  of  view  than 
the  great  Oliver  Lodge.  I  believe  In  the  per- 
sonality of  the  soul  continuing  after  what  we 
call  death.  The  war  was  a  specter  of  martyr- 
dom and  it  stirred  us  with  tremendous  pity 
and  indignation.  Many  heavy  hearts  turned 
then,  as  they  are  turning  now,  to  the  messages 
which  are  coming  to  us  from  the  after-life." 

At  this  moment  a  little  lady  entered  the 
room  and  stood  for  a  second  as  though  hesi- 
tating whether  to  advance  or  return  from 
whence  she  had  come.  He  caught  her  eye, 
and  she  came  over  beside  him  while  I  arose 
to  go.  She  was  a  frail  little  thing  and  many 
years  younger  than  her  husband,  and  yet  her 
affection  for  him  was  marked  in  everything 
that  she  did.     Many  are  the  stories  we  have 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  157 

heard  of  Maeterlinck's  personal  life,  his  wives 
and  his  ideal  of  a  perfect  trio,  but  never  a  word 
did  he  mention  of  this  to  me;  and  it  would 
have  been  hard  to  persuade  me  to  believe  that 
this  was  true,  after  the  touching  scenes  which 
went  on  in  his  apartment  that  Christmas  morn- 
ing. 

A  bright  light  was  shining  on  the  great 
thinker,  through  the  little  roof-top  window, 
as  I  passed  through  the  door;  drifts  of  cotton- 
like snow  whisked  themselves  towards  him,  and 
a  cheery,  simple  voice  was  saying:  "Merry 
Christmas  and,  remember,  I  like  your  New 
York,  and,  I  believe  I  love  your  America." 

That  was  the  last  I  saw  of  Maeterlinck 
from  any  degree  of  proximity.  A  week  later 
the  bulletin  boards  in  various  sections  of  the 
city  announced  that  "Maurice  Maeterlinck," 
the  Belgian  poet,  would  talk  on  after-life  at 
Carnegie  Hall,  and  I  was  assigned  to  "cover" 
the  story.  This  was  at  the  time  when  Maeter- 
linck could  secure  a  line  from  Metropolitan 
newspapers  for  every  breath  he  took. 

Two  days  before  the  great  speech  I  tried 
to  secure  from  the  person  who  had  taught  the 
Belgian  to  speak  English  his  side  of  the 
Story.     It  was  my  good  fortune  to  find  young 


158      PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

Sheridan  Russell,  the  son  of  Henry  Russell, 
responsible  for  the  deed.  The  young  man  in 
question  was  delighted  with  the  idea  that  his 
name  would  appear  in  the  papers,  and  was 
willing  to  tell  me  everything.  Although  born 
in  London  in  1901  he  had  been  educated  with 
much  care  in  various  parts  of  Europe,  so  that 
he  spoke  nine  languages  fluently.  His  main 
ambition  was  far  from  languages,  and  prob- 
ably would  not  be  proper  to  record  in  these 
pages,  but  his  ideas  of  teaching  Maeterlinck 
were  so  droll  that  I  could  not  refrain  from 
laughing  when  he  repeated  them  to  me.  The 
next  morning  we  ran  a  two-column  spread,  giv- 
ing Sheridan  Russell's  views  of  teaching  a  for- 
eigner the  English  language. 

The  night  after  this,  I  wished  with  all  my 
heart  that  we  had  not  paid  so  much  attention 
to  when  or  where  Maeterlinck  learned  to  speak 
his  "English." 

There  were  two  of  us  recording  the  address 
that  evening,  and  would  that  there  had  been 
more  I  The  hall  was  packed  until  not  another 
solitary  soul  could  have  entered,  and  the  silence 
before  the  lecturer  began  was  very  marked.  I 
had  been  stationed  in  the  back  of  the  house,  in 
order  to  cover  those  who  were  there,  and  any 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  159 

stray  bits  of  conversation.  The  lecturer  was 
introduced  by  the  Belgian  Ambassador,  and  the 
national  anthems  of  his  country  and  ours  were 
then  played. 

Being  in  the  back  of  the  hall  It  was  difficult 
to  hear  very  distinctly  what  was  being  said, 
and  yet  when  Maeterlinck  began  to  speak  I 
believed  that  I  was  entirely  losing  my  sense 
of  proportion  in  words.  It  seems  as  though 
he  were  speaking  Egyptian  instead  of  our  lan- 
guage, and  I  wondered  whether  that  little  imp, 
who  told  me  he  had  taught  him  English,  had 
taught  him  Japanese  instead.  For  a  long  time 
the  audience  seemed  to  bear  out  a  good  deal 
more  bravely  than  the  press.  Occasionally 
people  would  turn  and  look  at  each  other, 
sometimes  one  would  see  an  individual  push- 
ing at  his  ears,  while  others  strained  a  little 
harder  in  order  to  catch  some  more  of  the  queer 
phraseology.  And  then  the  inevitable  hap- 
pened. Hooting  and  catcalls  from  the  galleries 
and  laughing  and  hissing  from  the  orchestra. 

For  a  time  the  situation  was  most  embar- 
rassing. Many  people  left  their  seats  and 
besieged  the  box-office,  requesting  a  refund 
of  their  money.  Reserves  from  one  of  the 
nearby  pohce  stations  arrived  and  took  charge 


i6o      PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

of  the  crowds  at  the  ticket  offices  and  firemen 
opened  all  the  exits. 

Charles  Evans  Hughes,  who  was  on  the 
platform,  urged  the  audience  to  remain  quiet 
and  listen  attentively  so  that  they  might  un- 
derstand the  speaker,  but  the  damage  was 
done,  and  the  hall  began  to  empty  itself. 
Maeterlinck  was  evidently  in  despair,  but 
the  noise  continued.  Finally  some  professor 
climbed  on  the  stage  and  delivered  a  transla- 
tion of  the  speech  in  good,  clear-cut  American, 
yet  very  few  persons  remained  to  hear  what  he 
had  to  say. 

A  few  days  after  this  affair  came  a  rumor 
from  the  lyceum  bureau  people  who  had  en- 
gaged Maeterlinck  to  speak  in  this  country,  that 
their  contract  had  been  broken  and  that  they 
were  about  to  sue  the  great  thinker  for  a  very 
large  sum.  Again  the  news-hounds  were  on  the 
trail,  but  the  bureau  completely  denied  the  ru- 
mor, stating,  though,  that  they  would  have  an 
injunction  served  so  that  the  poet  could  not 
speak  in  any  other  language  save  English — and 
real  English  at  that — while  he  was  in  this  coun- 
try. 

Some   days    afterwards    Maeterlinck's   own 

publicity  man  announced  that  the  poet  would 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  i6i 

deliver  a  lecture  on  after-life,  in  French,  at  the 
Ritz  hotel.  The  newspaper  offices  were  buz- 
zing, and  sure  enough  Maeterlinck  spoke  as 
he  had  promised,  although  he  was  surrounded 
by  a  score  or  more  detectives. 

The  author  had  the  pleasure  of  "covering" 
this  recital,  and  gleaned  probably  more  amuse- 
ment out  of  it  than  from  either  of  the  pre- 
ceding stories.  The  stage  erected  in  the  ball- 
room of  the  Ritz-Carlton  was  lined  in  deep 
blue  velvet,  with  but  one  small  light  in  the 
center.  Fearing  lest  the  lyceum  bureau 
might  endeavor  to  stop  his  lecture  by  serv- 
ing him  with  a  court  injunction,  Maeterlinck 
reached  the  stage  from  the  street,  many  floors 
below,  in  the  laundry  elevator,  which  connected 
with  the  back  of  the  stage.  As  he  appeared 
before  his  audience  he  was  closely  followed  by 
a  tall,  clean-shaven  man,  the  mystery  of  whose 
presence  caused  much  interest.  It  was  revealed 
later  that  the  man  was  none  other  than  a  sleuth 
from  a  private  detective  agency. 

In  the  audience,  at  intervals,  were  more  de- 
tectives, while  outside  the  entrance  of  the  room 
many  plain-clothes  men  walked  up  and  down. 

When    Major    P ,    head    of    the    lyceum 

bureau,    entered    the    room,    a    great   buzzing 


i62      PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

occurred  and  the  poet  retired  to  the  back  of 
the  stage,  but  the  major  seemed  as  much 
amused  at  the  scene  as  the  audience  and  nothing 
occurred  beyond  a  lot  of  good-natured  laughter. 

Maeterlinck  delivered  his  lecture  in  French, 
and  the  entire  time  the  private  detective  sat 
close  beside  him,  one  hand  in  his  pocket,  grasp- 
ing the  butt  of  a  burly  revolver,  the  other  strok- 
ing his  chin,  while  endeavoring  with  alert 
vision  to  seem  as  interested  as  possible  in  all 
that  the  poet  was  saying.  Occasionally  he 
clapped  his  hands  and  once  or  twice  finding  that 
this  was  not  quite  'au  fait*  relapsed  into  an 
indifferent  position.  He  was  plainly  trying  to 
be  as  affable  as  he  could  but  realized,  as  did  the 
audience,  that  this  was  at  times  quite  impos- 
sible. 

That  evening  as  the  author  brought  in  the 
story  concerning  Maeterlinck's  attempted  lec- 
ture during  the  afternoon,  the  City  Editor  told 
him  in  a  quiet  but  firm  manner  that  no  more 
space  would  be  given  the  Belgian  poet  until 
he  commenced  "acting  like  a  man"  instead  of 
"a  young  and  foolish  child."  Although  I 
admit  that  I  was  astonished,  I  later  realized  the 
truth.  Maeterlinck  continued  for  sometime  to 
do  queer  and  rather  amazing  things,  probably 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  163 

in  a  vain  attempt  to  get  the  ears  and  eyes  of 
the  press,  and  then  seeing  that  this  was  utterly 
impossible,  slipped  into  complete  oblivion  as 
far  as  this  country  was  concerned. 
It  was  a  sad  end  for  a  genius. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

SQUIRREL  FOOD 

"Fools  rush  in  where  angels  fear  to  tread." 

One  would  be  certain  that  Pope  had  justly 
predicted,  were  one  to  enter  the  visitors'  room 
of  any  large  metropolitan  newspaper  near  the 
bewitching  hour  of  midnight. 

It  was  many  weeks  after  I  had  begun  re- 
porting when  I  noticed  that  New  York  con- 
tained many  irrational  people — whose  chief  oc- 
cupation is  to  pester  newspaper  offices. 

A  few  months  after  I  had  been  assigned  to 

our  criminology   department,   there  happened 

to  be  a  lack  of  criminal  news;  so  that  several  of 

us  spent  most  of  the  evenings  whiling  away  our 

time.     Occasionally  we   went  to   the   visitors' 

room  to  question  some  one  who  had  sent  in  to 

see  the  editor.    We  always  had  to  explain  that 

the  editor  was  occupied  or  that  he  had  left  the 

office,  in  order  to  ascertain  what  the  visitor 

wanted. 

164 


PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES      165 

Most  of  those  who  frequent  the  outer  office 
are  "regulars";  that  is  to  say  they  turn  up 
regularly  every  few  days  with  a  peculiar  piece 
of  information,  which  is  not  of  much  conse- 
quence. There  are  others,  often  prominent 
citizens,  who  desire  to  secure  publicity  for  a 
cause  in  which  they  are  interested  and  deem 
that  the  best  way  to  get  it  is  by  calling  per- 
sonally at  the  office.  But  the  strangest  melee 
of  all  are  the  wild-eyed,  feeble-minded  Don 
Quixotes,  with  predictions  of  terrible  disas- 
ters upon  their  lips. 

At  first  the  assignment  of  the  outer  office 
seemed  dry  and  uninteresting,  when  a  fire  or  a 
murder  was  reported,  and  I  was  often  rather 
disappointed  to  be  sent  out  there.  Later,  it 
seemed  as  though  the  visitors'  room  was  the 
most  interesting  in  the  building,  especially  when 
one  desired  to  study  poverty  of  intellect.  The 
simplicity  of  the  narrow-minded  as  seen  by  a 
reporter  is  indeed  a  more  thorough  human  story 
than  the  psychopathic  ward  in  Bellevue  Hos- 
pital. 

The  first  case  which  left  an  impression  upon 
the  author  occurred  one  evening  at  about 
eleven  o'clock.    A  gentleman  of  means,  whose 


1 66      PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

name  was  as  well  known  as  the  President's,  had 
sent  in  his  card;  and  although  it  was  not  cus- 
tomary for  him  to  call  upon  the  editor,  the  lat- 
ter was  no  respecter  of  custom,  so  he  told  a  re- 
porter to  see  what  the  distinguished  one  wanted. 

In  the  visitors'  room,  which  was  about  half 
a  block,  away  from,  the  Editorial  Department, 
some  sixteen  woe-begone  individuals  were 
seated.  As  I  entered,  each  in  turn  arose  and 
looked  expectantly  toward  me;  but  the  one  to 
whom  I  desired  to  speak  was  easily  recogniz- 
able. Elderly,  pompous,  and  very  dignified,  he 
possessed  all  the  attributes  which  motion  pic- 
tures lend  their  would-be  magnates." 

"Are  you  the  editor,  young  man?"  he  ques- 
tioned, without  rising  from  his  seat. 

I  explained  that  the  editor  had  just  stepped 
out  to  get  something  to  eat  and  that  the  as- 
sistant editor  was  extremely  busy  as  we  were 
going  to  "press."  He  looked  rather  disgrun- 
tled, but  probably  realized  that  it  was  impera- 
tive to  place  in  print  whatever  he  had  to  say 
and  that  to  do  so  he  would  have  to  hurry. 

"All  right,  young  man;  now  let's  get  down 
to  business,"  was  his  reply. 

From  a  deep,  black  despatch  case  he  drew 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  167 

forth  a  great  collection  of  material,  mainly 
blueprints  and  unintelligible  script.  This  he 
laid  on  the  sofa  between  us  and,  adjusting  his 
spectacles,  continued: 

"It  is  of  the  utmost  importance,  young  man, 
that  this  material  should  be  placed  before  the 
public  in  your  morning  edition.  A  Vigilance 
League  has  been  formed  by  prominent  men  to 
give  voice  to  the  average  citizen's  protest 
against  prohibition.  The  league  will  support 
an  action  recently  started  in  Washington  in 
the  United  States  Court  to  test  the  validity 
of  the  Eighteenth  Amendment  and  to  present 
the  people's  case  against  it. 

"We  members  of  this  committee  have  no 
interest  in  or  connection  with  the  liquor  busi- 
ness. We  are  not  concerned  about  restoring 
the  saloon  nor  do  we  defend  the  evils  of  the 
liquor  traffic.  What  we  do  say  is  that  the 
fight  for  prohibition  has  been  grossly  misman- 
aged and  that  the  rights  of  millions  of  men 
and  women  who  are  temperate,  sober  and  de- 
cent and  who  find  pleasure  in  the  moderate 
use  of  light  liquors,  have  been  entirely  ig- 
nored." 

He  would  have  continued  for  I  know  not 


i68      PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

how  long  had  I  not  arisen  at  the  moment. 
Although  indignant,  he  knew  not  what  to  say. 
I  told  him  we  had  received  quantities  of  that 
material  during  the  past  few  days  and  that  he 
was  only  wasting  his  time  by  telling  me  more 
about  it.  When  he  had  departed  I  realized,  as  I 
had  done  when  he  spoke  to  me,  that  he  merely 
wished  to  place  his  name  in  print  in  order  to 
counteract  rumors  which  were  current  at  that 
time  to  the  effect  that  he  had  been  backing  the 
Prohibitionists  with  tremendous  sums  of 
money. 

Radicals  of  one  sort  or  another,  chiefly  of 
the  harmless  variety,  often  entered  the  visi- 
tors' room  with  schemes  for  the  betterment 
of  the  relations  between  capital  and  labor. 
Was  it  not  Voltaire  who  said  that  ideas  were 
like  beards,  for  men  did  not  have  them  until 
they  grew  up  ? 

Sometimes  persons  temporarily  deranged 
would  put  in  an  appearance  and  often  we  would 
see  that  they  reached  comfortable  lodgings  be- 
fore the  night  was  over.  How  well  I  remem- 
ber an  elderly  woman  who  caused  a  commo- 
tion on  Christmas  eve. 

The  page-boy  had  informed  the  editor  that 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  169 

a  particularly  wild-eyed  personage,  scantily  at- 
tired, was  waiting  him  in  the  outer  office  with 
the  information  that  she  would  not  move  until 
he  repaid  her  the  million  dollars  he  had  bor- 
rowed ten  years  before.  The  editor  told  me 
to  see  what  she  looked  like  and  to  try  to  con- 
vince her  she  must  have  loaned  her  money  to 
some  one  less  prosperous  than  he. 

When  I  gazed  at  her  through  a  crack  in 
the  wall,  I  knew  at  once  she  was  the  type  of 
person  a  squirrel  would  delight  to  meet.  Her 
hair  was  unbrushed  and  waving  in  every  direc- 
tion and  her  black  dress  seemed  about  ready 
to  fall  apart.  Aside  from  this  she  wore  abso- 
lutely no  shoes  or  stockings  upon  her  feet! 

I  accosted  her  from  the  doorway,  fearing 
lest  she  might  mistake  me  for  the  editor.  Her 
eyes  were  blurred  and  she  smiled  with  an  un- 
canny twist  of  her  lips. 

"Ain't  you  de  feller  dat  took  my  million?" 
she  was  saying,  while  I  edged  nearer  the  stair- 
way. "Well,  I  wants  it  back  and  I  wants  it 
quick." 

I  tried  to  convince  her  that  she  was  mis- 
taken. I  told  her  no  one  in  the  office  had  a 
million  dollars  and  very  few  of  them  had  nerve 


I70      PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

enough  to  borrow  that  sum.  She  kept  repeat- 
ing that  she  wanted  the  "million"  and  that  she 
wouldn't  leave  until  she  got  it.  I  told  her  I 
feared  then  that  she  would  be  obliged  to  stay 
all  night;  but  there  was  no  sign  of  restfulness 
upon  her  face,  and  fearful  lest  she  might  try 
to  do  damage,  I  returned  to  the  city  desk. 

Four  other  reporters,  each  in  turn,  went  out 
to  see  what  they  could  do;  one  of  them  came 
back  In  a  hurry  with  the  information  that  she 
had  endeavored  to  scratch  his  eyes  out.  There 
was  great  mirth  at  this,  and  for  a  time  it 
looked  as  though  the  City  Editor  would  have 
to  break  a  rule  and  see  the  mistress  of  a  mil- 
lion, himself. 

And  then  it  was  that  the  page-boy  burst  into 
the  Editorial  Room  with  the  information  that 
she  was  disrobing  herself.  What  could  mere 
men  do  in  that  case?  One  reporter  called  for 
an  ambulance;  another  went  out  to  get  a  police- 
man; a  third  followed  the  page  into  the  hall 
to  find  out  if  what  he  said  was  true!  He  re- 
turned a  few  moments  later,  with  an  expression 
of  relief  upon  his  face: 

"I  gave  her  a  dime,"  he  said,  "and  told 
her  that  was  all  the  editor  could  pay  now,  but 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  171 

that  if  she  returned  ten  years  later  he  would 
give  her  her  money  with  six  per  cent  interest." 

Many  persons  possessed  of  an  inventive 
mind  are  also  pests  of  the  newspaper  outer 
offices.  They  do  not  seem  to  realize  that  news 
and  personal  material  are  different  languages, 
and  when  they  seek  to  secure  two  or  three 
columns  devoted  exclusively  to  their  inventive 
minds  they  are  doing  themselves  an  injustice. 
William  Winter  has  told  us  that  a  newspaper, 
like  a  theater,  must  mainly  owe  its  continuance 
in  life  to  the  fact  that  it  pleases  many  persons; 
and  in  order  to  please  many  persons  it  will,  un- 
consciously perhaps,  respond  to  their  several 
tastes,  reflect  their  various  qualities,  and  repro- 
duce all  their  views. 

Some  nuisances  are  inventive  as  an  excuse. 
One  evening  this  was  clearly  demonstrated 
by  a  young  man  of  demure  aspect  who  showed 
the  author  his  latest  invention.  The  blueprints 
were  extravagant  and  the  descriptive  material 
took  up  volumes  of  typewritten  pages.  It  was 
a  machine  to  be  attached  to  the  masts  of  all 
ocean  liners;  and  in  mechanical  language  he  ex- 
plained that  a  vacuum  coil  (which  he  had  de- 
vised two  years  before)  would  then  attract  all 


172      PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

the  electricity  in  the  surrounding  atmosphere, 
which  would  be  conducted  into  the  sea  by  means 
of  specially  constructed  brass  wires.  This  he 
claimed  would  entirely  eliminate  the  severe  elec- 
trical storms  which  were  at  that  time  descend- 
ing upon  the  east  coast. 

Another  man,  as  eccentric  as  a  comet,  had 
a  habit  of  paying  us  a  visit  once  or  twice  a 
month,  with  a  device  which  although  not  pat- 
ented, he  believed  ought  to  be.  His  ideas  were 
like  bad  quarters,  for  he  spent  his  life  trying 
to  pass  them  off  on  some  one  else.  At  one 
time  he  fell  heir  to  the  receipt  of  a  new  salve, 
which  he  was  certain  would  cure  any  open 
wound  in  less  time  than  anything  previously 
invented.  He  tried  to  demonstrate  this  upon 
the  man  who  ran  the  elevator  at  the  visitors' 
entrance  and  it  took  a  policeman's  club  to  clear 
the  situation. 

Cripples  are  not  excepted  from  the  kaleido- 
scope which  revolves  about  the  outer  office. 
Many  blinded  and  limbless  persons  are  con- 
stantly seeking  aid.  Mothers  trying  to  locate 
their  children,  and  wives  searching  for  their 
husbands,  make  a  newspaper  office  as  much  their 
headquarters  as  the  police  stations.  And,  with 
the  good,  there  are  also  the  bad. 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  173 

Wounded  soldiers  were  among  this  type  in 
1920,  the  difficult  part  being  that  of  separating 
the  just  from  the  otherwise.  They  would 
appear  at  night,  along  with  the  rest  of  the 
nondescript  multitude;  and  their  questions 
would  be  answered  and  advice  given  in  the 
same  manner  as  that  donated  at  the  charity 
booths  in  the  streets  below. 

All  reporters  have  had  "episodes"  which 
stand  out  in  their  minds,  but  I  believe  the  one 
the  author  had  on  New  Year's  Day  beats  them 
all.  The  page-boy  had  announced  a  one-legged 
soldier,  who  desired  some  information  which 
he  thought  he  might  procure,  as  we  published 
an  edition  every  morning  in  Paris.  He  was  a 
good-looking  young  fellow,  dressed  in  khaki, 
and  leaning  on  crutches,  and  his  desired  infor- 
mation softened  my  heart.  He  told  me  his 
fiancee  had  gone  to  France  as  a  nurse  in  hopes 
of  being  near  him;  that  was  two  years  ago,  but 
to  this  day  he  had  never  received  another  word 
from  her.  We  cabled  this  information  to 
Paris,  together  with  the  girl's  name  and  former 
address.  He  departed  from  the  office  filled 
with  thanks. 

Scarcely  ten  minutes  later  the  boy  again  an- 


174      PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

nounced  a  one-legged  soldier.  I  told  him  he 
was  mistaken  as  I  had  just  seen  that  man,  but 
he  laughed  and  said  it  was  a  different  fellow. 
So  out  I  went,  and  there  seated  on  a  sofa  was 
a  man  in  civilian  clothes,  wearing  a  service  but- 
ton, his  left  limb  amputated  at  the  knee.  He 
told  me  he  had  lost  it  in  a  railway  accident 
in  France,  and  that  although  the  hospital  had 
discharged  him  he  could  not  get  any  work  in 
New  York.  He  said  he  was  starving  and  that 
his  wife  and  child  were  at  the  point  of  death. 
He  wanted  to  borrow  enough  money  to  get 
them  all  back  to  Scranton,  Pa.,  which  he  prom- 
ised to  repay  as  soon  as  he  could  afford  to. 
Without  telling  the  editor,  I  loaned  him  the 
amount  and  sent  a  messenger  to  the  Pennsyl- 
vania Station  to  see  that  he  really  took  the 
train.  I  never  expected  to  hear  from  him 
again,  but  two  months  later  I  received  the 
full  amount  of  my  loan  in  return. 

As  I  was  resuming  my  seat  in  the  office,  the 
page  again  returned  and  said  there  was  another 
one-legged  man  awaiting  me.  It  had  then  be- 
come a  joke  with  the  other  reporters;  so,  natur- 
ally, as  many  as  could  do  so  came  out  to  watch 
the  proceedings.     This  time  the  soldier  was  a 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  175 

fat,  foreign-looking  man,  about  middle-age, 
with  a  bald  head.  He  complained  that  he 
could  not  get  work,  that  he  was  starving,  and 
that  since  leaving  the  hospital  his  wounded 
knee  had  festered  so  that  it  was  giving  him 
blood  poisoning.  He  wanted  to  borrow  fifty 
dollars  in  order  to  take  care  of  all  these  things 
as  soon  as  possible.  I  calmly  told  him,  how- 
ever, that  the  Herald  did  not  loan  money  to 
any  one  and  I  feared  we  could  do  nothing. 
He  swore  under  his  breath  in  German,  and, 
understanding  the  language,  I  asked  him  where 
he  was  born.  He  appeared  indignant  and  said 
it  was  none  of  my  business  and  then  hobbled 
off  on  his  crutches  downstairs.  Two  of  the 
reporters  followed  him  and  thereby  hangs  the 
tale.  They  said  he  went  to  a  tenement  in  a 
crowded  west-side  district  and  entered  a  room. 
They  took  turns  looking  through  the  keyhole, 
only  to  find  that  the  amputated  limb  was  in 
reality  the  lower  part  of  his  leg  bent  back  at 
the  knee  joint  and  firmly  bandaged  to  the  hip. 
It  later  developed  that  this  imposter  had  been 
a  double-jointed  actor  in  pre-war  days,  but 
was  interned  for  two  years  and,  upon  being 
released,  had  gained  a  living  by  posing  as  a 


176      PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

wounded  soldier  upon  the  streets  of  New  York, 
with  occasional  trips  to  newspaper  offices. 

While  some  people,  to  use  Churchill's  ex- 
pression, try  to  varnish  nonsense  with  the 
charms  of  sound,  others  choose  the  literary- 
path;  for  many  are  the  letters  addressed  to 
the  editor  of  a  large  news  organ.  I  think 
the  most  amusing  one  ran  as  follows: 

Dear  Sir: — If  you  will  lend  me  two  hundred  dollars  I 
will  be  in-debt  to  you  for  life. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

A  FOREIGN  BUYER 

"In  the  spring  a  young  man's  fancy  turns 
to,"  etc.,  etc.  Such  is  the  manner  of  the  ancient 
prophecy. 

Yet  in  the  Spring,  of  which  I  am  writing, 
my  thoughts  had  turned  to  entirely  different 
means  of  existence.  First,  the  work  on  the 
newspaper  staff  required  most  of  my  time,  and 
secondly,  I  was  right  in  the  midst  of  a  campaign 
to  sell  an  old  and  very  dilapidated  automobile. 

Several  months  before,  a  friend  whose  name 
was  well  known  in  the  automobile  field,  had 
told  me  of  an  auction  in  which  an  automobile 
he  desired  to  purchase  was  to  be  sold.  He 
was  afraid  to  use  his  name  as  the  price  might 
increase,  and  he  was  afraid  to  appear  on  the 
ground  in  case  he  should  be  recognized  by  some 
of  those  on  the  auction  floor. 

He  asked  me  to  bear  the  brunt,  and  for 
friendship  I  consented,  yet  I'll  venture  to  ad- 

J77 


178      PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

mit  that  it's  the  last  time  I'll  ever  be  thus 
helpful  for  any  one,  no  matter  how  good  a 
friend  he  proves  to  be. 

I  bid  on  the  car,  and  was  left  to  pay  for 
it.  The  amount  being  a  good  deal  larger 
than  the  pocket  money  which  I  gained  in  those 
days,  left  a  considerable  hole  in  the  place  from 
which  it  came,  and  I  remained  with  an  out- 
rageous monster  upon  my  hands.  What  to 
do  with  it,  I  knew  not.  To  make  matters 
worse,  the  man  I  had  so  brazenly  trusted  went 
into  bankruptcy,  and  having  no  written  agree- 
ment with  him,  I  could  do  nothing. 

For  eight  months  I  did  all  in  my  power  to 
rid  myself  of  the  monster  which  had  jarred 
its  way  into  my  innermost  sensibilities,  but  no 
solution  offered  itself.  Advertising  in  all  the 
papers,  from  which  one  usually  finds  just  re- 
wards, brought  one  no  nearer  a  solution. 

About  this  same  time  the  country  of  Czecho- 
slovakia was  endeavoring  to  place  itself,  in  a 
commercial  manner,  before  the  people  of  the 
United  States.  Representatives  of  the  new 
repubhc  had  appeared  in  eastern  cities,  and 
numerous  buyers,  armed  with  heavily  sealed 
credentials,  had  made  themselves  known  to  the 
public  press. 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  179 

It  was  a  foregone  conclusion  in  the  news- 
paper office  in  which  I  worked  that  a  great 
many  of  these  so-called  buyers  were  none  other 
than  professional  "fakirs,"  eager  to  grasp 
every  penny  on  which  they  were  able  to  lay  their 
hands.  It  was,  therefore,  agreed  that  our  pol- 
icy would  be  to  give  no  one  .publicity  unless  he 
were  recommended  by  some  reputable  institu- 
tion. 

One  afternoon,  I  was  ordered  to  cover  a 
luncheon  of  foreign  diplomats,  given  in  honor 
of  the  representative  of  Hungary's  Premier. 
The  luncheon  was  not  supposed  to  be  recorded 
in  the  press,  but  was  merely  to  acquaint  the 
heads  of  the  metropolitan  journals  with  this 
emissary  of  Dr.  Huszar.  Some  one  on  the 
staff  of  our  paper  found  he  could  not  attend 
and  I  was  sent  in  his  place.  Later  I  rather 
fancied  some  one  had  been  "tipped  off"  be- 
forehand that  the  luncheon  would  be  a  dull 
affair,  and  having  a  grudge  against  me,  he  had 
decided  to  "pass  the  buck"  to  the  poor,  un- 
suspecting "cub." 

When  I  arrived  at  the  Plaza  Hotel,  and  told 
the  toastmaster  that  the  man  I  represented 
could  not  be  present,  he  bowed  most  graciously 


i8o      PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

and  asked  me  to  take  the  absent  gentleman's 
seat  just  the  same.  I  did  so.  I  scarcely  re- 
member to  this  day  who  was  present  at  the 
luncheon;  however,  the  name  of  Cyrus  H.  K. 
Curtis,  publisher  of  The  Saturday  Evening 
Post,  impressed  itself  on  me,  for  that  very 
dignified  gendeman  sat  opposite  me,  with  the 
most  bored  of  expressions. 

There  were  many  speakers,  mainly  those 
who  at  some  time  or  another  in  their  careers 
had  erred  long  enough  to  visit  the  new  repub- 
lic, and  who  proclaimed  it  a  most  wonderful 
land,  the  resources  of  which  would  ever  be  a 
market  for  American  capital.  I  believe  I 
listened  to  more  genuine  foolishness  that  after- 
noon than  ever  before;  but  as  I  was  obliged  to 
represent  a  dignified  newspaper,  I  could  do 
nothing  but  appear  to  be  keenly  interested. 

Beside  me  there  sat  a  wild-eyed  foreigner. 
He  appeared  to  enjoy  the  food  that  was  placed 
before  him  more  than  the  conversation  that 
was  going  on  about  him,  and  it  was  not  until 
we  had  finished  the  salad  that  he  even  looked 
up  and  took  notice  of  the  situation.  I  won- 
dered whether  he  had  ever  been  visited  by 
any  of  our  highly  advertised  Relief  Commis- 
sioners. 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  i8i 

When  the  dessert  was  passed  he  turned  to 
me  and  smiled  broadly. 

"This  is  bully  chow,"  he  said,  in  the  broad- 
est western  accent,  while  I  smothered  a  startled 
exclamation. 

"Haven't  tasted  the  like  of  it  since  I  went 
to  the  Moulin  Rouge  in  Paris  two  months 
ago." 

As  I  could  not  include  the  Moulin  Rouge, 
in  Paris  in  my  vocabulary  of  that  region,  and 
as  I  had  never  heard  that  the  food  in  that 
emporium  was  any  too  remarkable,  I  thought 
it  best  to  agree  with  him. 

An  elderly  gentleman  was  telling  his  audi- 
ence that  he  was  a  well-to-do  Pacific  coast 
manufacturer.  He  claimed  that  prices  had 
so  increased  since  the  commencement  of  hos- 
tilities that  he  had  been  obliged  to  close 
his  plant  near  Portland,  Oregon.  Furthermore, 
he  said,  that  just  as  the  silver  lining  was  fading 
from  his  vision,  his  attention  was  called  to 
Czecho-Slovakia.  He  set  forth  immediately 
for  that  country.  To-day,  he  said,  he  was  manu- 
facturing all  his  material  in  Silesia,  at  a  cost  in- 
cluding transportation  there  and  back  of  twelve 
per  cent  lower  than  the  price  paid  before  the 


1 82      PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

war.  His  anecdote  met  with  a  great  deal  of  ap- 
plause, although  some  of  those  at  the  table,  in- 
cluding my  friend  opposite,  breathed  a  visible 
sigh  of  relief. 

A  telegram  from  Dr.  Masaryk,  president 
of  the  new  republic,  closed  the  conference. 

As  I  was  leaving,  my  companion  with  the 
great  hunger  tapped  me  lightly  upon  the  arm 
and  asked  me  to  accompany  him  next  door. 
We  went  into  a  large  smoking-room  and  seated 
ourselves  upon  some  deep  plush  chairs. 

"What  newspaper  do  you  represent,  young 
man?"  was  the  first  question  I  heard  myself 
being  asked. 

I  told  him  it  was  the  Herald. 

"Ah,"  he  replied,  as  though  in  deep  medi- 
tation, "the  same  as  that  which  appears  in 
Paris?    Well,  then,  we  are  sure  to  be  friends." 

I  told  him  I  hoped  so,  and  got  up  to  leave 
him.  I  had  not  grown  as  fond  of  this  strange, 
eccentric  man  as  he  appeared  to  be  of  me. 

When  I  reached  the  office  I  said  nothing  to 
the  City  Desk  of  my  acquaintance,  but  next  day 
I  was  told  that  a  Czecho-Slovakian  representa- 
tive had  called  many  times  asking  that  the  gen- 
tleman who  had  attended  the  luncheon  the  day 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  183 

before  communicate  with  him  as  soon  as  he 
came  in. 

Late  that  afternoon  I  presented  myself  at 
the  door  of  an  apartment  on  upper  Madison 
Avenue.  Soon  afterward  the  buyer  joined  me 
and  we  walked  into  Central  Park.  We  found 
a  comfortable  seat,  and  he  expounded  to  me 
the  need  for  publicity  in  running  the  cam- 
paign he  had  agreed  to  manage  for  the  new  re- 
public of  Europe.  He  told  me  a  weird  story, 
which  I  was  loath  to  believe. 

He  claimed  that  about  four  months  before 
he  had  been  starving  in  Chicago.  One  evening 
when  he  believed  his  last  hours  had  come,  he 
decided  to  jump  in  the  lake  and  end  his 
misery.  He  was  crossing  Lake  Shore  Boule- 
vard when  he  noticed  an  elderly  gentleman 
scratching  in  the  gravel  as  though  trying  to 
find  something.  An  automobile  was  coming 
directly  for  the  old  man,  and  had  not  my 
story  teller  jumped  toward  him,  he  claimed, 
the  old  man  would  surely  have  been  killed. 
The  gentleman  proved  none  other  than  the 
western  representative  for  Czecho-Slovakia, 
and  as  a  recompense  had  offered  to  make  him  a 
foreign  buyer  for  the  republic. 

He  added  that  he  had  several  million  dol- 


1 84      PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

lars  at  his  disposal,  but  that  in  order  to  get 
in  touch  with  the  right  kind  of  people  he  had 
to  be  better  known,  and  that  he  therefore  had 
to  have  some  publicity.  As  I  had  never  taken 
a  course  in  advertising,  I  did  not  know  what 
advice  to  give  him,  and  we  commenced  walk- 
ing back  to  his  apartment. 

When  we  reached  there  he  espied  my  ram- 
shackle car,  which  was  standing  in  front  of 
the  door.  I  told  him  that  I  was  trying  to  sell 
it,  and  that  although  it  was  in  good  condition, 
it  was  such  an  ungainly  object  no  one  wanted 
to  have  anything  to  do  with  it.  He  told  me 
that  if  he  had  enough  money  of  his  own  he 
would  Buy  it,  drive  up  and  down  Fifth  Avenue, 
and  thereby  gain  publicity. 

The  following  day  this  same  man,  whom  we 
shall  call  Mr.  WilHams  in  order  to  simplify 
matters,  reached  me  by  telephone.  I  met  him 
in  the  evening  during  the  time  allotted  to  my 
supper.  He  said  he  was  "honored  to  know 
me,"  and  though  I  believed  for  a  long  time  that 
he  might  be  temporarily  deranged,  I  felt  almost 
sure  after  this  outbreak  that  my  surmises  were 
correct. 

He  was  a  great  deal  more  polite  than  the 
evening  before,    and   after  long   explanations 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  185 

of  the  material  he  wished  to  possess,  asked 
me  if  I  knew  where  he  could  buy  very  quickly 
a  thousand  automobiles  for  export. 

I  gave  him  the  names  of  many  concerns  that 
dealt  in  second-hand  cars,  all  of  which  had 
become  familiar  objects  to  me  during  the  past 
eight  months,  and  I  finally  told  him,  as  though 
with  great  reluctance,  that  I  would  sell  him 
my  car,  if  he  could  pay  the  price  I  asked. 

Mr.  Williams  said  he  would  give  me  the 
price  I  asked  provided  I  could  show  him  what 
the  car  would  do  in  traffic.  A  few  minutes 
later  we  were  driving  through  the  theatri- 
cal crowds  on  Broadway.  In  and  out  we 
wound  our  way,  until  we  finally  drew  up  at 
the  Herald  office.  He  entered  and  placed  a 
large  half-column  ad,  requesting  all  second- 
hand automobile  dealers  to  apply  to  him,  as  he 
wished  to  export  a  thousand  automobiles  at 
once  to  Czecho-Slovakia. 

Next  morning,  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach 
on  Madison  Avenue,  in  the  locality  of  Mr. 
Williams'  apartment,  there  were  all  kinds  and 
sorts  of  automobiles.  It  was  enough  of  a 
story  to  which  any  newspaper  could  devote 
a  column.  I  was  eager  to  learn  whether  the 
checks  which  Mr.  Williams  would  presumably 


1 86      PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

pay  would  come  back,  and  whether  the  elusive, 
eccentric  man  would  disappear  as  swiftly  as  he 
had  come  upon  the  scene. 

Williams  did  not  seem  to  be  satisfied  with 
the  cars,  and  after  taking  down  the  addresses 
turned  them  all  away.  When  I  asked  him  his 
reason  he  said  he  must  communicate  first  with 
the  "higher-ups,"  and  then  he  would  let  me 
know  whether  he  would  buy  the  cars.  He 
was  very  insistent,  however,  on  purchasing  an 
automobile,  but  as  I  had  had  a  good  offer  from 
a  reliable  source  that  morning  I  did  not  like  to 
part  with  the  machine  to  one  whose  notions 
proved  so  queer. 

When  I  returned  to  my  office  after  lunch 
the  editor  asked  me  about  my  car.  He  in- 
formed me  that  a  Czecho-Slovakian  buyer  had 
called  up  the  office  of  the  Herald  and  told  him 
that  I  had  inserted  an  ad  in  the  paper  request- 
ing to  buy  a  thousand  automobiles,  and  giv- 
ing, instead  of  my  name,  his  name.  He  said 
he  resented  very  much  the  appearance  of  all 
these  peculiar  cars  of  every  make  and  descrip- 
tion outside  of  his  apartment,  and  that  his  life 
was  being  made  miserable  by  the  questions  of 
their  owners. 

It  was  then  for  the  first  time  that  I  grasped 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  187 

the  scheme,  and  great  was  the  rage  which  I 
vented  upon  him  over  the  telephone.  The 
following  day  not  a  word  appeared  in  the 
papers  concerning  the  transactions  of  the 
would-be  buyer,  but  half  a  dozen  papers  sent 
representatives  to  find  out  whether  the  elusive 
Mr.  Williams  was  really  a  representative  of 
Czecho-Slovakia  or  not.  No  one  seemed  to 
have  the  slightest  idea  as  to  his  identity.  One 
paper  suggested  to  the  medical  authorities  that 
he  be  taken  to  Bellevue  Hospital  for  observa- 
tion; when  they  reached  his  apartment  he  had 
disappeared. 

For  six  weeks  I  did  not  see  him,  and  then 
one  day  while  bound  for  the  west,  some- 
body tapped  my  shoulder  In  the  Grand  Central 
Station.  I  looked  up  and  saw  a  poor,  unshaven, 
very  badly  dressed  individual  smiling  at  me, 
through  reams  of  deep  wrinkles.  I  recognized 
the  mysterious  Mr.  Williams. 

"America  may  be  well  versed  in  the  gentle 
art  of  publicit}',"  he  said,  "but  it  takes  Czecho- 
slovakia to  put  It  all  over  her." 

To  this  day  the  representatives  of  that  re- 
public firmly  deny  they  knew  or  had  anything 
to  do  with  the  Mr.  Williams  who  tried  to  gain 
free  publicity  for  them. 


CHAPTER  XV 

THE   COPY-READER 

Titles  are  held  by  some  people  to  be  as 
valuable  as  precious  stones  in  this  great  de- 
mocracy of  ours.  Yet,  did  not  sohie  wiseacre 
tell  us  that  all  is  not  gold  that  glitters?  And 
so,  to  the  press,  because  of  their  news  value, 
as  well  as  to  the  public,  some  European  titles 
mean  a  great  deal  more  than  they  really  should. 

Therefore,  when  it  is  learned  that  a  for- 
eigner, be  he  ever  so  humble,  has  reached  this 
country,  the  reporters  descend  like  a  covey  of 
vultures,  eager  to  grab  the  last  morsel  of  indi- 
viduality from  the  urbane  European,  and  to 
distort  his  words  in  the  same  manner  as  Cen- 
tral Europe  distorted  our  language  in   19 17. 

The  Countess  de  Rodellec  du  Porzic,  wife 
of  a  member  of  one  of  the  remaining  really 
old  families  in  France,  upon  her  arrival  in  New 
York  sought  refuge  from  squads  of  reporters, 

camera    and    motion-picture    men,    at    the    St. 

188 


PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES       189 

Regis  Hotel.  It  was  not  only  her  title  and 
her  record  in  the  war,  but  the  fact  that  she, 
as  an  American  girl,  had  married  in  France 
and  had  achieved  fame,  that  added  to  her 
merit.  The  grand-daughter  of  William  Jones, 
an  influential  banker  of  almost  half  a  century 
ago,  and  the  sister  of  Mrs.  Charles  A.  Post, 
the  Countess  du  Porzic  was  indeed  a  celebrated 
character  in  America. 

For  twelve  days  the  newspapermen  lay  siege 
at  the  hotel,  without  once  being  able  to  recover 
as  much  as  a  word  from  the  very  important 
foreigner,  for  be  it  known  that  Madame  de 
Rodellec  detested  publicity. 

It  was  during  this  so-called  siege  that  the 
author  of  these  notes  one  day  was  lunching  at 
the  St.  Regis.  A  staff  man  on  one  of  the  other 
papers  called  him  aside  and  asked  him  whether 
he  had  as  yet  been  successful,  and  not  having 
even  been  apprised  of  her  arrival,  the  author 
was  obliged  to  announce  that  he  knew  nothing 
at  all  concerning  the  lady  in  question.  During 
luncheon,  however,  I  happened  to  recall  that 
the  name  was  most  familiar,  and  then,  all  at 
once,  the  scene  changed. 

Early  in   the   spring  of    19 18   I   was  quar- 


190      PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

tered  in  the  stable  of  a  chateau  in  Northern 
France.  The  officer  for  whom  I  was  a  de- 
spatch driver  lived  at  the  chateau  in  luxury 
and  comfort;  the  orderlies  and  chauffeurs 
bunked  in  the  stable.  Of  Gothic  architecture 
and  filled  with  numerous  works  of  art,  fine  tap- 
estries and  valuable  paintings,  Kerstears  was 
one  of  the  most  beautiful  edifices  in  this  area. 
For  many  months  the  home  of  allied  wounded 
and  of  later  date  the  headquarters  of  Ameri- 
can generals  and  staffs,  it  will  be  remembered 
by  thousands  who  saw  active  service  at  the 
front. 

I  had  not  been  there  long  before  I  was  called 
upon  to  act  as  interpreter  for  an  American 
major,  who  was  at  that  time  provost  marshal 
of  the  nearby  village.  Madame  de  Rodellec 
recognized  something  in  my  accent  and  asked 
my  name.  It  developed  that  she  had  known 
my  mother  and  many  m.embers  of  my  family 
in  her  younger  days,  and  incidentally  my  quar- 
ters were  transferred  from  the  stable  to  the 
chateau  itself.     But  to  return  to  my  story. 

An  hour  later  I  was  seated  in  the  apart- 
ment of  the  Countess,  chatting  away  at  great 
length,  and  telling  her  and  her  little  niece  of 
the  many  things  which  had  happened  since  I 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  191 

had  last  seen  them.  Finally,  I  broached  the 
subject  of  an  interview  and  the  good  lady  threw 
up  her  hands  in  horror.  I  tried  to  per- 
suade her  that  if  she  would  give  me  the  exact 
details  and  tell  me  whatever  she  liked,  I  would 
make  a  perfectly  correct  and  absolutely  truth- 
ful story.  I  pointed  out  that  if  she  kept  on 
refusing  to  see  the  reporters  she  would  have 
to  remain  In  her  room  the  entire  time  she  was 
in  America,  and  added  that  if  she  gave  me 
permission  to  use  only  a  few  lines,  I  would 
guarantee  to  drive  away  all  the  newspapermen 
and  assure  her  that  they  would  not  return  un- 
less she  wanted  to  see  them. 

"But,  it  is  so  annoying  to  see  all  that  I  have 
said  and  many  things  which  I  should  never 
think  of  saying,  in  the  papers  all  the  time," 
said  Madame  de  Rodellec,  in  great  distress. 
"The  reporters,  they  never  seem  to  be  able  to 
say  what  they  are  told  to  say.  And  then,  be- 
sides, they  always  enlarge  and  increase  on  every 
little  thing  which  they  are  told." 

"In  Paris,  we  had  a  terrible  time  with  them. 
They  wanted  to  know  my  age,  and  when  and 
where  I  was  born.  I  told  them  they  were  too 
impertinent  for  words  and  I  refused  flatly  to 
answer  any  of  their  rude  questions.    They  told 


192      PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

me  I  didn't  have  to  tell  them,  for  they  would 
telegraph  the  Bureau  of  Records  and  find  out 
my  entire  personal  history,  and  so  I  let  them 
do  so. 

"The  next  day  there  were  headlines  in  the 
papers  stating  that  I  had  formerly  been  the 
owner  of  the  great  Black  Diamond.  Thirty- 
eight  newspaper  representatives  besieged  my 
rooms  at  the  Crillon  Hotel.  I  could  see  the 
camera  and  moving-picture  men  training  their 
apparatus  at  the  front  door  and  I  could  hear 
the  reporters  swearing  under  their  breaths  in 
the  hallway.  But  I  remained  in  my  room  nine 
days,  until  finally  I  summoned  the  police,  who 
forcibly  removed  those  awful  men,  who  would 
have  made  my  entire  Paris  visit  a  nightmare. 

"At  last  I  prepared  a  bulletin  stating  my 
occupation,  and  that  I  had  been  the  owner 
of  the  Black  Diamond.  My  statement  was 
published  and  the  press  let  me  alone.  When 
we  left  Paris,  however,  an  American  corres- 
pondent happened  to  be  aboard  the  train  and 
insisted  upon  coming  into  our  compartment  and 
asking  us  all  about  how  I  happened  to  lose  the 
great  Black  Diamond. 

"I  began  to  think  that  the  people  were  more 
interested  in  that  miserable  diamond  than  they 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  193 

were  in  the  Peace  Treaty,  so  I  never  said  a 
word  the  entire  journey.  When  we  reached 
Cherbourg  there  were  allied  correspondents 
to  meet  us;  they  took  our  photographs  and  they 
ran  along  beside  us,  with  pencil  and  paper  in 
hand,  writing  and  describing  all  the  things  we 
never  said,  and  all  the  things  we  never  did. 
I  fully  expected  to  see  ourselves  falling  off  the 
dock  or  jumping  into  an  aeroplane,  but  we  did 
not  have  a  chance  to  see  the  French  papers 
before  we  sailed. 

"And  it  was  the  same  way  when  we  arrived 
in  this  city.  We  escaped,  however,  and  came 
ashore  in  the  doctor's  boat.  They  landed  us 
on  Staten  Island  and  an  automobile  brought  us 
here.  You  now  see,  though,  why  we  are  afraid 
of  publicity  and  why  we  detest  talking  to  the 
reporters." 

I  did,  and  I  pitied  them,  yet  as  I  had  already 
gained  access  to  their  room,  I  knew  I  could  not 
go  downstairs  without  something  to  tell  my 
compatriots.  Therefore,  I  urged  Madame  de 
Rodellec  to  say  a  few  words,  impressing  upon 
her  again  and  again  that  they  would  appear 
just  as  she  wished  them  to  appear,  and  nothing 
more,  nor  less.  At  last  she  relented  and  agreed 
to  tell  me  something  which  might  be  repeated 


194      PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

to  Americans  who  had  served  as  soldiers  in 
France,  and  had  perhaps  seen  her  chateau  and 
remembered  her  and  her  little  niece. 

"I  can  never  express  my  gratitude  and  my 
thanks  for  the  wonderful  way  in  which  you 
Americans  showed  your  valor  in  France," 
began  the  Countess.  "At  the  beginning  of 
the  war  we  only  knew  the  An^.erican  Ambu- 
lance Service,  that  remarkable  group  of  valiant 
men  who  were  ever  at  our  beck  and  call  in  any 
and  every  emergency.  When  the  United  States 
severed  connections  with  Germany  we  thought 
it  would  be  many  long  and  weary  months  before 
we  saw  any  American  troops.  The  French 
people  wondered  v.^hat  manner  of  men  the 
American  soldiers  would  be.  They  discussed 
around  their  eating  tables  whether  they  would 
resemble  the  British,  and  conduct  themselves 
as  the  Belgians.  They  queried  as  to  whether 
they  would  be  dark  complexioned  like  the 
Italians,  or  small  and  sturdy  as  the  French. 
And  then  one  day,  five  weeks  after  they  had 
declared  war  on  Germany,  they  came  to  us.  I 
believe  I  was  one  of  the  first  women  to  welcome 
the  Americans  in  France. 

"There  were  tears  in  the  eyes  of  the  French 
mothers  as  they  kissed  the  cheeks  of  the  tall, 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  195 

masterly,  erect  young  Americans,  who  had 
come  four  thousand  miles  in  answer  to  Lafay- 
ette's call  for  help.  There  were  cheers  and 
handshakes  from  the  maimed  French  heroes 
who  watched  the  Americans  on  their  way  to 
the  rest  camps;  and  their  was  laughter  in  the 
eyes  of  the  little  boys  and  girls  as  they  played 
around  the  feet  of  the  giants  from  across  the 
sea.    That  was  the  beginning. 

"The  days  went  by  and  the  weeks  too,  and 
every  day  brought  more  and  more  stalwart, 
youthful  Americans.  They  came  by  the  hun- 
dreds, by  the  thousands.  They  filed  through  our 
little  village,  with  vigor  in  their  eyes  and  re- 
venge written  in  their  hearts.  Occasionally 
bands  playing  lively  music,  such  as  the  French 
had  not  heard  in  years,  accompanied  them. 
We  learned  your  great  patriotic  'Over  There' 
and  our  hearts  filled  with  sorrow  and  pity  as 
we  thought  what  was  in  reahty  awaiting  you 
Over  Here. 

"Many  of  those  youngsters  who  laughingly 
bade  us  adieu  never  came  back.  Many  of  them 
had  their  last  taste  of  mother  love  and  home 
when  they  left  our  little  village.  Some  of 
them  lie  beneath  the  sod  in  the  grave-yard  at 
my  chateau. 


196      PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

"It  was  my  honor  to  quarter  your  Gen- 
eral John  F.  O'Ryan  and  some  of  his  staff. 
After  he  had  gone  I  knew  what  it  was  to  re- 
spect all  you  youngsters  who  wore  the  khaki  of 
America.  I  know  to-day  what  it  is  when  I  see 
a  wounded  man  in  the  streets.  America  came 
to  help  France,  just  as  France  had  helped 
America  a  hundred  or  more  years  ago,  and 
France  will  never,  never  forget  America." 

Madame  de  Rodellec  was  weeping  as  she 
finished  telling  me  this,  and  I  thanked  her  from 
the  bottom  of  my  heart  for  giving  me  her  im- 
pressions as  a  representative  of  French 
mothers  and  mother  love.  I  arose  to  go  but 
realized  she  had  not  finished. 

"My  little  niece  here,"  she  continued,  "is 
only  fourteen,  yet  she  has  seen  and  borne  so 
much  these  past  six  years  that  she  seems  to 
be  a  great  deal  older.  Both  her  brothers 
served  with  the  French  Army.  The  eldest  was 
a  sergeant  in  the  Dragoons;  he  was  a  daring 
horseman  and  a  valiant  young  swordsman.  At 
the  beginning  of  the  war  he  was  seriously 
wounded  in  Belgium  and  was  later  taken  pris- 
oner. For  three  years  he  went  through  untold 
horrors  in  German  prison  camps,  and  in  191 8 
he  was  sent  to  Switzerland,  where  he  has  only 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  197 

recently  married  a  sweet  little  girl  whom  he 
had  known  since  childhood  and  who  was  serv- 
ing as  a  nurse  to  exchanged  prisoners-of-war. 

"Her  youngest  brother,  who  was  heir  to  the 
title,  was  a  lieutenant  in  the  famous  Blue  Dev- 
ils. He  is  said  to  have  been  the  youngest 
Frenchman  to  have  received  the  Legion  of 
Honor.  He  also  was  decorated  with  the  Croix 
de  Guerre.  He  returned  home  a  few  days 
after  you  left  for  the  front  in  19 18  and  was 
killed  on  the  night  of  his  twentieth  birthday. 

"My  husband,  the  late  Count  Oliver  de  Ro- 
dellec,  had  seen  service  in  the  diplomatic 
corps  most  of  his  life,  and  during  hostilities 
served  for  some  time  in  the  Ministry  of  War 
and  as  advisor  to  the  French  Military  Cabinet. 
So  you  see,  we  too,  in  our  family  have  been 
patriotic,  and  we  have  given  our  best  blood  in 
the  cause  of  victory." 

Another  member  of  Madame  de  Rodellec's 
family  had  seen  service,  for  I  later  learned 
that  her  father,  who  was  a  Frenchman,  raised 
a  regiment  of  Zouaves  during  the  Civil  War 
and  was  commissioned  the  youngest  Major- 
General  in  the  Northern  Army.  Of  fighting 
stock  was  this  grand  old  lady,  and  the  people 
of  New  York  who  read  her  story  must  have 


198      PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

been  favorably  Impressed  and  glad  that  she 
had  a  title. 

As  I  left  her  apartment  the  Countess  again 
impressed  upon  me  the  promise  of  removing 
the  other  reporters  and  of  securing  an  abso- 
lutely authentic  story,  one  of  which  she  could 
long  be  proud, 

"I  am  a  constant  reader  of  your  paper,"  she 
told  me.  "Marie  Antoinette,  here,  learned 
most  of  her  English  through  reading  from  it. 
It  gives  me  great  pleasure  to  jfind  therefore  a 
friend  of  mine  on  the  staff  of  such  a  wholesome 
American  paper.  And  furthermore  I'm  glad 
you  didn't  ask  me  anything  about  the  Black 
Diamond,  or  my  age,  or  anything  else  which 
would  be  embarrassing.  I  owned,  I  admit,  the 
great  Black  Diamond,  but  a  nephew  of  mine 
was  drowned  on  the  Thame  as  he  was  bringing 
it  to  America,  so  I  no  longer  have  it.  And 
my  age,  well,  you  can  guess  that,  and  if  you 
can't  you  can  find  it  as  the  other  reporters  said, 
in  the  Bureau  of  Records." 

Upon  arriving  in  the  hall  of  the  St.  Regis, 
I  told  the  other  newspapermen  just  enough  of 
a  story  to  make  them  all  get  back  to  their 
offices,  and  yet  not  enough  for  them  to  "beat" 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  199 

me   with   mine,    and   I    returned   to   my    City 

Editor. 

As  soon  as  the  story  had  been  written,  I  was 
sent  out  to  cover  a  fire,  which  lasted  two  hours 
and  which  destroyed  a  large  building  in  the 
theatrical  district.  I  had  no  sooner  come  back 
from  that  and  turned  in  my  material  than  I 
was  sent  out  to  report  on  a  meeting  of  the 
Union  Grave  Diggers,  an  organization  affili- 
ated with  the  American  Federation  of  Labor. 
Returning  from  this  out  I  went  again  to  get 
the  particulars  concerning  two  men  who  had 
been  killed  in  a  powder  plant  explosion  at 
Wayne,  New  Jersey,  and  I  did  not  return  until 
the  wee  hours  of  the  morning. 

An  elderly  reporter,  who  had  a  desk  near  me 
in  the  city  room,  had  been  covering  a  group 
of  "small  fry"  as  well,  and  he  came  over  to 
chat  with  me.  I  told  him  of  my  big  story 
of  the  day,  and  he  told  me  of  his  story, 
which  he  believed  was  equally  big.  He  had 
discovered  in  a  small  boarding  house  in  the 
upper  reaches  of  the  city  the  man  who  had 
designed  the  Paris  underground  sewerage  sys- 
tem. It  was  a  good  story  and  would  probably 
receive  a  column   "spread,"  he  informed  me. 


200      PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

Something  must  have  gone  wrong  with  the  copy 
department  machinery  for  our  stories  got 
mixed. 

A  few  moments  later  the  first  edition  of  the 
morning  Herald  came  off  the  rollers  and  to  my 
amazement  I  read  the  following: 

"Countess  de  Rodellec  du  ^orzic,  who  is 
held  in  grateful  renaerabrance  by  thou- 
sands of  American  soldiers,  home  from 
France,  arrived  in  this  country  three 
weeks  ago.  Yesterday  she  was  inter- 
viewed by  a  staff  reporter  and  told  him 
of  hei  admiration  of  the  Americans  who 
had  served  in  France. 

"The  arrival  of  the  Countess  in  this 
country  is  of  great  importance,  for  it  will 
be  remembered  that  her  distinguished 
husband  was  the  inventor  and  designer 
of  the  Paris  underground  sewerage  sys- 
tem, etc.,  etc." 


CHAPTER  XVI 

THE   FIGHTING  MAYOR 

From  coast  to  coast  and  throughout  the  en- 
tire world  the  name  of  Ole  Hansen  rang  forth 
in  19 19;  and  it  is  doubtful  whether  there  was 
a  person  interested  in  the  affairs  of  the  United 
States  who  did  not  know  of  him  and  his  work. 

Seattle,  one  of  the  rivals  of  New  York  on 
the  Pacific  Coast,  and  the  largest  and  most 
prosperous  city  in  the  northwest,  was  the  cen- 
ter of  a  general  strike,  the  like  of  which  had 
never  before  been  witnessed.  Troops  from 
Camp  Lewis,  the  largest  cantonment  in  the 
country,  machine  gun  battalions  and  infantry, 
had  been  summoned,  and  within  a  few  days 
Ole  Hansen,  the  mayor  of  the  city,  was  re- 
ported to  have  quelled  the  uprising.  Mr. 
Hansen  was  "made,"  to  use  the  vernacular  of 
the  reporters,  and  he  must  have  known  it,  for 

a  few  months  later  he  resigned  as  chief  execu- 

201 


202      PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

tive  and  launched  a  series  of  lectures  through- 
out the  country. 

In  the  fall  of  the  year,  there  was  a  persistent 
rumor  that  Mr.  Hansen  was  thus  preparing 
to  become  an  aspirant  for  the  republican  nomi- 
nation for  President.  And  indeed,  at  this  time 
his  thorough  prescription  for  the  cure  of  radi- 
calism had  made  sensational  progress  for  him 
in  every  community.  Besides,  he  failed  to  deny 
these  rumors,  probably  since  they  were  current 
more  in  the  east  than  in  the  west.  He  con- 
tinued to  maintain  absolute  silence. 

On  the  twenty-third  of  September  the  author 
arrived  in  Seattle,  having  been  sent  from  New 
York  on  a  swift  and  interesting  mission;  and 
two  hours  later  presented  himself  on  the  ninth 
floor  of  the  Smith  Building,  a  tower-like  struc- 
ture, the  highest  in  the  city  and  the  pride  of 
the  neighborhood.  An  office  secluded  at  the 
far-end  of  a  hall,  bearing  no  name  or  device 
upon  its  doorway,  with  the  exception  of  a 
numeral,  greeted  me;  and  after  knocking  a 
few  times  I  was  told  to  come  in. 

The  room,  which  looked  out  upon  the  bay, 
full  of  shipping,  was  bare  with  the  exception 
of  a  desk  at  its  furthest  end,  at  which  was 
seated   a  young  and  exceedingly  polite   man. 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  203 

The  author  did  not  try  to  conceal  his  mission, 
stating  simply  that  he  had  been  sent  four  thou- 
sand miles  overland  to  obtain  an  interview  with 
the  fighting  mayor  of  Seattle,  and  that  he 
hoped  his  mission  would  be  successful. 

A  few  minutes  later  Ole  Hansen  appeared, 
smiling  radiantly  with  hands  outstretched,  his 
abundant  white  hair  brushed  carefully  back 
from  his  forehead,  and  the  deep  grooves  of 
responsibility  visible  on  his  cheeks.  During 
the  hour  that  I  conversed  with  him,  both  from 
his  appearance  and  from  that  which  he  told 
me,  I  judged  him  equal  to  the  heavy  responsi- 
bility of  any  office  that  the  people  of  this 
country  might  confer  on  him.  His  clarity  of 
expression,  and  the  terse  and  rather  picturesque 
manner  in  which  he  spoke  reminded  me  some- 
what of  the  late  Col.  Roosevelt. 

We  seated  ourselves  at  his  desk,  which  was 
covered  with  manuscripts,  pamphlets  and  social- 
istic literature;  for  he  was  then  completing  his 
*'Cause  and  Cure  of  Bolshevism."  G.  A. 
Ross's  "Russia  in  Upheaval,"  and  John 
Spargo's  "Bolshevism,"  were  at  his  elbow, 
while  behind  him  "Labor  in  Europe  and 
America,"  Coleman's  great  success,  attracted 
my  attention.     A   few  photographs  lined  the 


204      PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

top  shelves  of  a  law-book  cabinet,  in  one  of 
which  I  noticed  a  large  family  group,  his  wife 
and  nine  children.  His  eldest  son,  a  lad  of 
twenty-three,  because  of  ill-health  was  not 
fit  to  serve  his  country  during  the  war,  so  Mr. 
Hansen  took  his  place  and  served  the  nation  as 
mayor  of  one  of  the  most  turbulent  cities  in 
the  country. 

After  discussing  my  trip  across  the  conti- 
nent, the  effect  of  the  Prince  of  Wales'  visit 
to  the  Dominion  and  countless  other  things, 
the  mayor  of  Seattle,  Mr.  Hansen,  calmly 
inquired  what  he  could  do  for  me.  Possibly 
my  quiet  reply  was  just  as  baffling  as  his  ques- 
tion. 

"I  came  from  New  York,"  I  answered,  "to 
ask  if  you  are  thinking  of  the  presidency  as 
your  ultimate  goal?" 

His  brown  eyes  flashed  at  me  keenly  as  he 
bent  forward  and  replied: 

"A  better  man  than  myself  should  be  chosen 
as  candidate  for  President — a  man  more  fitted 
and  with  greater  experience.  He  should  sur- 
round himself  with  the  best  men  in  our  coun- 
try, or  else  he  will  be,  regardless  of  his  particu- 
lar abilities,  only  a  twenty-five  per  cent  Presi- 
dent.    He  should  be  a  nationahst  and  not  an 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  205 

internationalist,  for  the  sentimental  interna- 
tionalist is  a  positive  danger  in  times  like  these. 

"We  must  preserve  and  develop  our  na- 
tional morale,  or  else  we  will  not  be  in  a  posi- 
tion to  be  of  international  help.  The  inter- 
nationahst  loves  all  countries  but  will  fight  for 
no  country.  No  one  can  love  more  than  one 
country  any  more  than  he  can  love  more  than 
one  woman;  and  if  he  says  he  does,  then  his 
love  is  of  the  tepid,  indiscriminate,  skimmed 
milk  variety;  skin  deep — and  thin  skin  at  that. 

"I  am  not  a  candidate  for  any  office  what- 
soever, but  I  do  want  to  be  a  valuable  and 
worthy  private  citizen.  I  want  to  serve  in 
whatever  capacity  I  believe  I  can  do  the  most 
good,  for  any  man  who  at  the  present  time 
is  giving  thought  to  personal  ambition  in  pub- 
lic office,  unless  he  believes  he  can  do  the  most 
good  for  his  country  therein,  is  not  a  good 
American.  This  is  a  time  when  every  man 
and  woman  in  the  United  States  should  be 
thinking  about  something  far  different  than 
personal  aggrandizement  or  partisanship. 
There  is  too  much  selfishness  in  the  minds 
of  our  people  and  of  our  leaders,  for  the 
problems  confronting  our  nation   are  worthy 


2o6      PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

of  the  biggest  thoughts  of  our  best  men,  and 
they  must  be  solved.  These  questions  cannot 
be  laid  aside  forever;  we  must  meet  them  now. 

"This  war  has  shifted  our  population  from 
the  country  to  the  city,  and  most  of  the  new, 
young,  city  men  have  nothing  to  hold  on  to, 
and  therefore  there  is  more  or  less  unrest.  In 
wartime  these  men  had  the  ideals  of  patriot- 
ism to  mold  them  together,  and  they  became 
cogs  in  the  gigantic  national  machine.  At  pres- 
ent they  seem  to  have  neither  home  ties  nor 
religion,  and  it  is  this  element  that  is  a  great 
factor  in  the  cause  of  the  present  unrest. 

"Propaganda  will  stand  for  a  time  unless 
scattered  by  the  truth,  for  the  value  of  ad- 
vertising ideals  has  not  yet  been  sensed  by  our 
patriotic  citizenry;  it  has  always  been  known 
by  the  opposite  class.  Our  bookshops  are  filled 
with  tons  of  socialistic  propaganda  in  one  form 
or  another;  our  patriotic  countrymen  have  but 
little  to  combat  it,  except  the  Holy  Bible  and 
the  Constitution  of  the  United  States,  and 
neither  of  these  seem  to  be  popular  nowadays. 
A  truth  told,  will  spread;  a  lie,  too,  will  spread, 
but  despite  the  general  belief  the  truth  will, 
nine  times  out  of  ten,  overtake  the  lie. 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  207 

"All  I  can  ask  for  or  desire  is  that  all  good 
Americans  study  the  fundamentals  upon  which 
their  government  is  based  and  from  it  spread 
the  truth,  for  this  will  overtake  the  tissues  of 
lies  that  are  enveloping  the  nation." 

On  December  6,  several  weeks  after  my  in- 
teresting interview  in  Seattle,  I  was  seated  at 
the  press  table  of  the  Silk  Association  of 
America's  dinner  at  the  Astor  Hotel  in  New 
York.  Mayor  Hansen,  then  in  the  midst  of 
his  Americanization  tour  of  the  country,  was 
scheduled  to  speak,  and  many  prominent  men 
and  women  from  all  over  the  city  were  present 
to  hear  him. 

Although  there  were  over  twenty  reporters 
at  my  table,  Mr.  Hansen  recognized  me  as 
soon  as  he  took  his  place  at  the  speakers'  table, 
and  reached  over  to  shake  hands. 

His  topic  that  evening  was  Americaniza- 
tion, and  he  spoke  exceedingly  well;  cheers 
were  continuous  for  many  minutes  at  a  time, 
and  when  he  was  through  he  was  escorted  to 
the  door  by  a  prominent  committee  while  every 
member  of  the  fifteen  hundred  present  did  him 
honor  by  standing  as  he  passed  out. 

For  two  weeks  after  this  I  scarcely  attended 
a    repast   but   that   Mr.    Hansen   sat   at   the 


2o8      PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

speakers'  table,  and  delivered  his  well  pre- 
pared talks,  and  always  thousands  of  voices 
were  lifted  up  in  cheers.  One  evening  we  went 
to  Paterson,  New  Jersey,  where  he  addressed 
a  post  of  the  American  Legion;  and  after  his 
speech  radicals  throughout  that  city  burned 
his  likeness  in  effigy.  His  ideas  were  sane, 
his  addresses  always  delivered  with  a  great  deal 
of  push  to  them,  and  his  slang  was  used  to  great 
advantage.  Many  persons  criticized  him,  claim- 
ing that  he  used  the  same  methods  as  Billy  Sun- 
day, but  all  were  unanimous  in  their  belief  that 
Hansen  was  a  great  man. 

How  well  I  remember  his  address  before  an 
organization  which  favored  Oriental  immigra- 
tion, and  of  which  some  prominent  bankers 
were  directors.  The  banquet  was  of  the  se- 
vere, quiet  variety,  held  at  an  exclusive  club 
in  upper  Fifth  Avenue.  The  speakers  had 
been  demonstrating  the  actual  benefit  derived 
from  Oriental  immigration  on  our  west  coast, 
and  an  air  of  pleasing,  refined,  solemnity  was 
upon  the  countenances  of  all.  Mr.  Hansen, 
the  last  speaker  on  the  list,  had  arrived  late, 
having  attended  two  banquets  before.  He 
arose,  and  all  eyes  were  turned  upon  him  as 
he  commenced  to  speak. 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  209 

"Gentlemen,"  he  said,  glancing  at  his  watch, 
"I  have  but  a  very  few  minutes  to  tell  you 
the  truth,  and  I  certainly  am  going  to  tell  it 
to  you. 

"We  have  a  right  to  keep  out  any  one  we 
do  not  need  or  want  in  this  country,  and  so  we 
should  keep  out  all  immigrants  who  are  not 
needed  and  who  are  not  a  benefit  to  our  land. 
We  should  select  our  immigrants  in  much  the 
same  manner  as  we  selected  our  soldiers.  The 
intending  immigrant  should  go  to  our  repre- 
sentative across  the  sea,  fill  out  a  question- 
naire, make  a  deposit,  and  be  physically,  men- 
tally, and  normally  examined,  and  his  past 
career  investigated.  Then  these  different  rep- 
resentatives should  send  the  results  with  recom- 
mendations to  our  Board  of  Immigration  In 
Washington,  who  in  turn  should  select  the  peo- 
ple they  want  to  allow  to  enter. 

''However,  I  am  totally  and  absolutely 
against  Oriental  immigration  except  that  which 
includes  scholars  and  business  m.en,  and  If  I 
had  my  way  I  would  exclude  every  member  of 
an  Asiatic  creed  that  I  found  illegally  entering 
the  United  States." 

One  afternoon  he  was  addressing  a  legisla- 


210      PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

tive  body  in  a  city  adjacent  to  New  York.  He 
had  been  informed  that  the  public  school 
teachers  were  underpaid,  and  their  working 
hours  were  by  far  too  long  in  comparison  with 
the  salaries  they  received.  But  the  legislators 
whom  he  addressed  were  not  in  favor  of  raising 
these  salaries,  and  had  several  times  remon- 
strated against  it.  Mr.  Hansen  had  been  asked 
to  talk  on  the  Seattle  strike  and  the  principles 
of  Americanization,  and  finished  his  speech  in 
the  following  manner: 

"The  average  pay  of  school  teachers  is  un- 
der five  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  a  year.  They 
receive  less  than  the  average  bootblack  makes 
off  his  tips.  They  should  be  paid  sufficiently 
to  live  in  decency  and  in  comfort;  but  with  the 
pittance  they  are  receiving  they  cannot  be  ex- 
pected to  love  the  people  that  pay  them,  for  an 
oppressed  individual  seldom  loves  his  oppres- 
sor. We  must  care  for  our  children  in  their 
homes,  and  we  must  teach  them  the  truth  in 
relation  to  Governmental  affairs,  and  the  flag 
of  their  nation.  Americanism  should  be  a  defi- 
nite course  in  our  schools,  then  the  educator 
will  be  paid  by  the  generation  which  he  taught 
sufficiently  to  make  him  contented. 


OF  A  CUB  REPORTER  211 

"Resolutions  will  not,  cannot,  raise  a  bushel 
of  wheat.  If  one  man  had  been  accustomed 
to  raise  five  hundred  bushels  of  wheat,  and  it 
takes  two  men  to  raise  the  same  amount  of 
wheat  now,  then  the  two  men  in  the  final 
analysis  will  receive  the  exact  compensation 
that  one  man  received  before.  It  is  the  gener- 
ation that  will  crush  socialism;  and  this  is  the 
first  principle  of  Americanization." 

Parables  of  this  sort  were  Mr.  Hansen's 
strong  point,  for  though  often  his  audience 
did  not  gather  the  meaning  immediately  it  al- 
ways came  back  to  them,  and  with  it  was  the 
memory  of  the  snow-white-haired  man  who  had 
told  them  of  it. 

When  Mr.  Hansen  left  New  York  for  other 
parts  of  the  country  it  was  with  genuine  sor- 
row that  the  reporters  who  had  "covered'* 
him  bid  good-bye.  He  had  been  a  good  influence 
to  the  men,  and  all  of  them  had  grown  exceed- 
ingly fond  of  him.  His  farewell  speech  summed 
up  the  entire  lesson  which  he  had  taught,  and 
not  a  few  of  those  who  heard  it  regretted  that 
they  had  not  met  the  "little  man  with  a  punch." 

"We  all  have  a  great  duty  to  perform  in 
life,"  said  Mr.  Hansen,  "a  duty  which  we  can- 


212      PERSONAL  EXPERIENCES 

not  neglect,  no  matter  how  we  try,  and  that  is, 
we  must  each  and  every  one  of  us  accomplish 
something  which  shall  not  be  forgotten.  You 
gentlemen  of  the  press,  with  your  views  of  all 
sides  of  life,  know  that  some  day  sooner  or 
later  you  are  going  to  accomplish  the  ideal  for 
which  you  set  out.  Never  give  up,  for  nothing 
is  impossible,  providing  you  try  your  hardest 
to  secure  it.  But  keep  with  you  in  your  fight 
for  the  truth  in  life  the  thought,  too,  that  what- 
ever you  do,  and  do  righteously,  is  for  the 
benefit  of  your  country,  your  country's  citizens, 
your  family,  and  yourselves." 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

Los  Angeles 

This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


lUTd 


'  v-'UU 


n?f*k^?r,^,r*-^^  ,,, 


OECS 


j^"1" 


Form  L9-25TO-8, '46(9852)444 


THE  LIBRARY 
UNIVERSITY  07  CALIFORNIA 


T    /'\0       A   Kl/^TT'T   TJO 


4874 
V28A2 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


AA    000  409  171 


xx^ 


liiliil 


k.  lii. 


if 


niii,! 


